Compromised
by Ivanolix
Summary: Sam and Jolinar escape the ashrak, but leave the SGC in a lurch and themselves with all the cards stacked against them in a hostile galaxy. Gen. AU off In the Line of Duty. Sam and team centric.
1. Prologue

_Note: Dialogue within ~ is the inner thoughts of the host, while dialogue within * is the inner thoughts of the symbiote. Everything in normal quotation marks is spoken out loud._

**Prologue**

Jolinar knew all had gone to Netu when she was running for her life across Nasya. The Tok'ra were known for their cautious nature, ready to bolt if it helped the cause, but Jolinar and Rosha had prided themselves on sticking to their post even in anticipation of bitter pain. They had a feeling that though the High Council would never acknowledge it, their reprimands of such reckless behavior were for show only. But Jolinar had run once before, and now she was running again.

Running to save a life—and not her own. She refused to apologize to the man whose body she was at the moment directing. Apology meant that there was some failure, and Jolinar refused to accept that until it was certain. She wouldn't allow that, wouldn't allow Quinta to be lost like Rosha. He had been so kind, finding them at death's door after their escape from Apophis with Cronus' ashrak on their heels—he had asked what he could do for them, and as Jolinar felt Rosha slip away from her tentative grasp, she had called out in desperation to this man. "I wish to join with you," she said in a tinny whisper, and though he balked, he did not run. "Only to hide, and only briefly," she added, nearly her last breath. He frowned, but she had read his face and seen the gentle caring of his heart, and was not surprised when he leaned forward and offered himself to her.

Even now, she thought that no one knew—she had buried herself deeply, withdrawing from Quinta as he lived his life with wife and family, both for his sake and hers. And then they had come through the gate, the famous Tauri and Jaffa shol'va. Quinta had not been impressed, and Jolinar found their open and spontaneous tactics very youthful, so neither of them had cared to go forward and speak to them. Until the gliders swept in, golden-orange shots piercing the morning and ripping homes and occupants apart.

"Get to the gate!" came the call of the fair-haired Tauri to Jolinar's ears—and Jolinar felt a brief flash of grief for Rosha at the sight of that strong face framed by golden hair before she began running even faster, gritting her teeth. She would not apologize for failure—she would make it to the gate, to the safety of the Tauri.

Then there was a flash behind her, and she glanced behind to see where Quinta's home now lay in smoking ruins. Another flash, and she jerked, looked down at the gaping wound in her chest that didn't hurt, and crumpled involuntarily to the earth.

_~Oh god_,~ she heard the thoughts of Quinta as he realized the situation.

Jolinar gritted her teeth metaphorically and did not bother to point out that the only god here was the cause of his terror and distress. But she couldn't hide her honest assessment of the predicament.

_~I am gone, aren't I, dear one?~ _came his thoughts, so clear for one so haplessly chosen.

No one called her dear one, not even—no one.

_~You are a strong soul, Jolinar, and I did not resent you for your need. But that it so ends without my wife near...~_

_*No, not yet*,_ answered Jolinar, working with her strength to knit the sinews of his heart while choosing not to focus on the blood seeping dangerously into his punctured lungs.

_~Good—fortune—Jolinar of Malkshur.~ _Quinta's thoughts were disjointed as his nearly halted breathing drained the oxygen and therefore the life from him.

_*No,* _declared Jolinar fiercely, but Quinta was already unconscious. Her strength was slowly ebbing away as her work became more difficult. There was so much blood in Quinta's lungs, so much burning near sensitive arteries—even she could not do it all. Aware of the Tauri's promise of medical aid, she struggled to keep Quinta on the brink of life, putting all her hope on the rumors of just how advanced this new race was.

"Wait, sir, I've got to go back!" That strong voice floated above the noise and confusion again, and Jolinar saw through Quinta's eyes as the blond Tauri ran back through the mess.

But though most of the Nasyans lay dead or many yards away by the gate, at least one glider pilot felt the urge to bag an important prize. Swooping down from the skies, two shots exploded right behind—Carter, was she called? One struck directly onto the cart of mined naquadah, and suddenly a ball of fire flung Carter to the ground and shrapnel propelled all around. She landed at Quinta's feet, and Jolinar felt her hopes dashed as she saw the scorched uniform and dark blood swiftly seeping to dye that rare golden hair.

Quinta was almost gone—he would be gone, unless these Tauri had a healing device or a sarcophagus. Desperate for her life, and for the priceless information she was bearing to the Tok'ra, Jolinar made a swift decision. The Tauri woman, Carter, if Jolinar remembered correctly, had a serious wound on her head that was probably even now resulting in cranial trauma; if Jolinar could just summon the strength to move to her as a new host, she was certain that with her remaining strength she could keep the woman from both death and mental damage.

It was too soon to withdraw from Quinta, her host for barely six months, and Jolinar felt the tiny neural tendrils ripping as she ventured out into the open air. Slowly, she worked her way across the cold ground covered in splinters, senses suddenly dulled, and with a final jump, entered into Carter. She was totally unconscious, her mind hidden from Jolinar, which kept the now-weary symbiote from being overwhelmed by a flood of sudden information. The sharp metallic taste of blood where she had bitten down on her tongue, the numbness where nerves had been cauterized, the painful pressure from the swelling, and beyond her body the sound of explosions and the harsh scent of smoke.

_*You will forgive me, but I must save your life,*_ she thought morbidly as she put out all her effort to heal the broken veins and crushed neural tissue inside Carter's head before it was irreparable. *_I promise, I will not be here long by choice.*_

She chose not to pay attention to the vague sounds going on above and around her...

_Carter? Carter! Daniel, help me!_

_Oh god, Jack... Frasier! Frasier!_

_I need to deal with this quickly—get her onto the table, but gently._

_..._

_Dr. Jackson? Colonel O'Neill? I've stabilized what I can, but she's lost a good deal of blood and fluid through the burns, and she has a massive concussion. I'm monitoring her skull for pressure, but the brain damage is beyond my care. We can only hope for the best and wait till she wakes up._

_..._

_Daniel?_

_I can't sleep, Jack—how do the Goa'uld seem to know exactly what I value, what would hurt me most to take away?_

_I'm going home, Daniel. There's nothing needed from me here._

_I know—it's just something I need to do._

_Let me know when she wakes up will you, Danny boy?_

_..._

It was many hours later when Jolinar felt that all the urgent healing had been done. With her new host no longer in a life-or-death situation, she withdrew herself deep into Carter's mind and fell into an exhausted unconsciousness to recover. She had survived once again.


	2. Unknown

**Chapter 1 - Unknown**

Daniel found himself jerked to waking by the sudden sound of Dr. Frasier's heels on the hard infirmary floor, and he winced as his neck protested at how he had slept, slouching in a chair and leaning up against the wall by Sam's bed. Sighing, he sat more slowly up.

Dr. Frasier approached, examining the quietly humming and beeping equipment attached all over Sam. "I told you to go home to sleep, Dr. Jackson," she said.

"I know," said Daniel, in an inconspicuously stubborn way that he had perfected.

Janet didn't look too imposing, though, not knowing him well enough to see past his innocent exterior. "I'm sure she'll appreciate it once she wakes up," she said.

"Are we certain that will happen?" Daniel asked, looking up with open eyes bleary with worry.

"Yes, definitely," said Janet, nodding, with a confidence that could have been more than a reassurance to herself. "She survived the night—that was the biggest danger. Now my concern is what state she'll wake in." She sighed, looking to where Sam lay.

Daniel's gaze drifted back as well, remembering the limp and bloody figure that Jack had carried through the gate, whose hair had been matted darkly against her head and whose body had been covered in blistering red marks. The smell of scorched flesh had added to the sick feeling he had then, and so vivid a reaction it was that it burned into his mind—unforgettable. Now she was cleaned and bandaged up, a pale face against the pale sheets and pillows. It was almost eerier, especially her scarce breathing as she lay very still.

"But we probably have another couple days before she even opens her eyes," added Janet with a frown after a moment, "what with the head trauma and the injuries... General Hammond has given you leave, Dr. Jackson—as your doctor, I'd suggest that you take it."

"And go home to an empty apartment?" asked Daniel, no real question on his face.

"You could visit Colonel O'Neill," suggested Janet.

"Jack doesn't even want to admit that this happened," said Daniel, frowning a little. "I think he thinks ignoring it will make things better—believe me, here is the least stressful place for me."

"Well, at least spend some time in your lab, keep your mind busy," said Janet. "Excessive worrying won't help anyone."

Daniel gave her a weak smile, and she gave an answering one and then called over an aide. As they began to change Sam's bandages, Daniel decided he really didn't want to watch, and walked out yawning to change his wrinkled BDUs.

ooooooo

As Sam gradually became aware of her consciousness, she first noticed the dull pain wracking her body, and secondly that she couldn't remember why she had it. But she could recall being told that losing consciousness usually meant losing the last minute or so of short term memory, so she assumed it was connected to the attack on Nasya. At least the familiar sounds of the SGC gave her a place of reference. With the centering of the pain in her head and then running down her back and legs, she felt very fuzzy and groggy, not really aware.

She cracked her eyelids open, and found that the light was gentle on them. Her head wouldn't turn to look around, but as her eyes opened a little wider, she saw Daniel sitting next to her bed. He looked tired, even with the tray of breakfast food in his lap. and she spared a brief moment to be glad that she didn't wake up to strangers. She swallowed with a tiny sound to clear her dry mouth.

Daniel's head jerked upwards so that his eyes met hers, and he choked a little on his mouthful of oatmeal. "Sam?" he said, in obvious surprise.

Sam didn't know if she had the strength to speak until she tried. "Daniel?" she creaked.

"Janet said you probably wouldn't wake for another day at least, so I had no idea—you know who I am, right?"

Daniel had a way of making one both more and less confused, and Sam's dry lips cracked a little in a half-smile. "Yes, Daniel. I just can't remember why I'm in a hospital bed."

"Oh Sam, you have no idea how good that is to hear," said Daniel, gently placing a hand on Sam's IV'd arm. "We've all been worried sick—Jack couldn't even stay here, and Teal'c's been in kel'no'reem. You were very near a blast on Nasya, and the fireball and shrapnel knocked you out. There's, uh, a lot of burns and a really bad head wound," he said, indicating with his hands a bit absentmindedly. "We weren't sure about brain damage."

"I remember Nasya," Sam said, the cloud of foggy consciousness dissipating slowly.

"I should tell Dr. Frasier," commented Daniel to himself, wiping his face with his napkin. "Or not—are you all right, Sam, do you need me?"

Sam smiled a little. "I don't think so, my pain seems pretty normal." Her brow furrowed as she thought about what she was feeling. There was an odd sensation in her head, beyond the normal trauma of a head injury, and it was growing now. It was almost like the presence of something foreign, and it didn't feel right at all.

ooooooo

Daniel sat patiently as he watched Sam frown and introspect. He was excited to spread the news, but Sam seemed to have something to say. He watched her frown and look somewhat worried, but didn't know whether he should be worried himself.

Suddenly, her hand snapped out with a strength he wouldn't have expected to grab him, her eyes wide open in sudden panic as she gasped: "Daniel, it's a—"

Then a flash of golden light in her eyes, and Daniel leapt back involuntarily, his tray crashing to the ground, the food spraying across the floor.

"Guar-marines! I need help here!" he called frantically. His hand went to his hip because of the lack of other options, but he did not carry a weapon off mission.

Not-Sam tried to sit up, and Daniel was at that moment glad for the accident as he saw that the creature controlling his friend could barely rise a few inches before sinking into the pillow again. Then, breathing heavily, she spoke with that twangy Goa'uld voice: "Do not—be rash, Daniel Jackson. Things are—not as they seem."

His shock at hearing that voice come from Sam faded quickly as he registered her words. There were footsteps coming quickly toward the infirmary. "What?"

"I have—no wish to harm any of the—people of this planet," said not-Sam through gasps, closing her eyes. "Do not assume you know all of the Goa'uld."

The arrogance was there, surely, but as the marines came in and had their weapons up at the ready at the sound of her voice, Daniel doubted.

"Wait, don't shoot!" he said, not turning around but waving a hand in their direction. "What are you talking about?" he asked pointedly, drawing a little nearer to the hospital bed.

"I am Jolinar of Malkshur," said not-Sam slowly. "And I am no Goa'uld."

"Dr. Jackson?" asked the captain of the marines, not moving his eye from the sight of the gun in case there was trouble.

"I don't think she could move if she wanted," said Daniel, his adrenaline already fading, leaving only tension.

"Should I send for General Hammond?"

"Yeah, yes, that would be good—and see if Jack's here," said Daniel, deeply worried but no longer panicked. He turned his full attention back to Jolinar, though. "What exactly are you denying?" he demanded. "You've already expressed all of the characteristics we have seen of the Goa'uld."

"Foolish young ones," breathed out Jolinar, but too tired to be angrily. "You spend a year in the galaxy and think you know all."

"So, explain to me what we've missed," said Daniel, wanting to hear a reason, any reason, but not expecting to get one. "Because if you don't hurry up about it, some men who are more trigger happy and less likely to care what I think are going to come through that door and, I assure you, they probably won't hear a word you say."

"The Goa'uld are your name for a symbiotic race of beings, which are, in fact, much more than what you have seen," said Jolinar, slowly but more steadily.

"So what, you're a good Goa'uld?" asked Daniel, moving his hands about to ask for clarification.

"No, the Goa'uld are but a sect of our race," said Jolinar somewhat impatiently.

"What the hell is going on?" demanded the loud voice of General Hammond as he entered the infirmary.

"Captain Carter's a Goa'uld, sir," reported the captain of the marines.

Jolinar let out a frustrated sigh, but even that was so clearly tinged with the symbiotic voice.

"Wait, sir, I'm not so sure," said Daniel.

"She's been saying strange things, sir," said the captain.

General Hammond's large brow was deeply furrowed, and he looked unhappy about more than Sam's situation. "Dr. Jackson?"

"She's not acting like a typical Goa'uld, general sir," said Daniel. "And she's not admitting to it—this is a new case, we can't just jump in like we know everything."

"The hell we can!" said Jack, fast on Hammond's trail. "Daniel, Carter's been taken by an alien being against her will—that's all we need to know."

"No, Jack, I don't think so," protested Daniel, not even sure why he was doing it.

"Dr. Jackson, have you never heard of enemies lying to gain sanctuary?" asked Hammond.

"Just wait a bit, please," said Daniel. "I'm not convinced about anything yet, but I don't want to rush things. Keep the guns if you want, just let me talk to her."

The infirmary was now full of people; marines mostly, but Dr. Frasier was standing nearby, and Teal'c was ready with his staff weapon. Hammond looked once from Jack to Daniel, then nodded. "You have five minutes, son."

"Sir, I need to check Sam's vitals," said Janet.

"Do it! Just keep your distance," ordered the general.

Daniel nodded his thanks, and moved back to where Jolinar lay with her eyes shut, though clearly awake. Jack followed, arms crossed and eyes glowering protectively.

"You are indeed as rash as legends are saying," drawled Jolinar without opening her eyes.

"Okay, insulting us is not the way to gain trust," said Daniel, now a little frustrated.

"What'd you expect from a Goa'uld, Daniel," muttered Jack, hands twitching at his side.

Daniel took a deep breath, and Jolinar opened her eyes to flash them. "I am no Goa'uld!"

"Protest overmuch?" Jack came back, stance switching from worried to aggressive.

"Please, Jack, let me do this," said Daniel. He folded his arms, trying to keep his worry from showing so physically. "Jolinar, he's not without a point."

"I am weak," said Jolinar shortly. "And my testimony will mean nothing to you without action, so I see. So be it!"

There was a shudder, and suddenly the eyes flashed and Daniel saw Sam in them.

"Daniel?" she asked, tentative and obviously shaken.

"Sam?" he answered.

"Oh god, Daniel," she said, still too weak to even rise.

Daniel hesitated for a moment, loosening, and then he impulsively took the last few steps forward to put his arms comfortingly and gently around Sam, ignoring the shuffling of feet drawing nearer and the cocking of weapons behind him.

"Dr. Jackson, this might very well be a ruse," said General Hammond from where he stood behind the marines' line of fire.

"We can't know anything for sure, general," said Jack, looking less angry as he watched either a good imitation or the actions of Sam herself in the way she held onto Daniel.

"Sam, how are you feeling?" asked Janet, drawing closer as Daniel had.

"I want this thing out of me," Sam said as sharply as she could.

"We'll do everything we can, Sam," soothed Daniel.

"How do your wounds feel?" asked Janet.

Sam shuddered and gripped onto Daniel's sweater. "She's healing them even now," she said. "Jolinar—she's trying to fix me."

"That's good, Sam," said Janet, bending a little to look at Sam's face. "She's probably all that kept you alive last night."

"I don't care," spat Sam.

"That's not what she meant," Daniel assured. Then, urgently, "How did this happen, Sam?"

"I don't know, I don't remember," said Sam distractedly, and Daniel felt her physical weakness as she began to tremble. "God, Daniel, I don't even remember."

"Okay, Sam, it doesn't really matter now," said Daniel. "We need to know who we're dealing with. Can you read her thoughts, know what she's thinking?"

Sam took a few deep breaths. "No, she's hiding in the back of my mind so she can heal. But I could see her a little before, when she was in control."

"I'm sorry Sam, but we need to know—was she truthful?"

"She wasn't actively lying," said Sam carefully. "She was full of fear—fear, frustration, even anger, but she was sincere about it."

"That doesn't mean anything, and you know it, Daniel," said Jack, standing behind Daniel's shoulder.

"Jack, what Goa'uld gives up control of its host?" said Daniel.

"We don't know that this Jolly Goa'uld has!" protested Jack. "She's in Sam's mind, knows what Sam would say!"

"But why?" pushed Daniel. "If she's in Sam's mind, what would she see there that she could take advantage of?"

"Your damned tolerance, for one," said Jack.

Daniel snorted. "I'd never let anyone take Sam—she would know that—no matter what."

"So why bother talking to her?" asked Jack. "Why don't we put her in a nice cell until we can get Sam back?"

"Sir, you may not have that option," said Sam slowly, speaking after a few deep breaths.

"We didn't have much success before," admitted Daniel darkly. "But we're not giving up—and maybe we can convince this Jolinar to leave before we kill her."

Jack nodded his head in firm agreement.

"Daniel, I didn't see anything about armies," said Sam. "I don't remember her thinking anything like that. She—I think she wanted to go home."

"Even if she's the best Goa'uld in the whole galaxy, what does that mean?" asked Jack, his stance betraying his lack of determination of whether he wanted to come closer or stay cautious.

"It means we can't kill her lightly," said Daniel, closing his eyes for a brief second.

There was a murmur behind him, but whether from the marines or Hammond Daniel didn't know.

"Daniel!" said Sam with a start, and then suddenly Jolinar was back. Daniel withdrew his arms swiftly, and Jolinar lay back against the pillow as her eyes flashed.

"Your Colonel O'Neill is being appropriately direct," she said.

"So, what do you have to say to that?" demanded Jack, the softness that had come when faced with Sam gone again.

"You want this one returned to you at any cost," said Jolinar. "And I do not want to stay in an unwilling host."

"Oh, and we're just going to believe that?" asked Jack. Daniel was deep in thought and didn't seem to notice their conversation.

"I only chose her to save both our lives," said Jolinar, though she eyed Jack with just a hint of scorn. "It matters not what you believe, thus are the facts. So is the fact that I must return to my people."

"Yeah, and who are they exactly?" Jack stepped forward past Daniel, but only so that he towered over the bed.

"The Tok'ra," said Jolinar, holding her gaze upwards towards Jack's.

Then Teal'c stepped out from the sidelines, breaking the barrier of the silent crowd. "They are but a legend, ColonelO'Neill," he said in his deep rumbling voice.

"A Jaffa?" asked Jolinar. "The famed shol'va, Teal'c? You must know more of us than that—do not even the Goa'uld speak of the name of Jolinar of Malkshur?"

"Uppity, are we?" commented Jack, but Teal'c appeared pondering.

"I have indeed heard of that name, ColonelO'Neill," he said. "She is wanted among the System Lords for acts of treason."

Jack's eyebrows rose considerably.

"Tok'ra," said Daniel, coming out of his reverie as he connected some pieces, tapping a finger on his leg. "Tok-ra, against Ra, that's what that name means?"

"Of course," said Jolinar shortly.

"Why?" continued Daniel.

"You of all people need reasons why any others would oppose such an evil?"

"When it comes to you, yes," said Daniel, giving her a close look. "You're a—a symbiote, you need humans. Why should you hate those like Ra?"

"Ra was an abomination, as are his brood," said Jolinar disgustedly. "Our race was not originally so flawed; we are meant to live in harmony with our hosts, sharing body and mind."

"So, like just now with Sam?" asked Daniel.

"This is not the most ideal of situations," said Jolinar dryly. It frustrated Daniel to hear.

"Dr. Jackson, we need to make a decision," cut in General Hammond.

"We haven't learned anything useful, sir," said Jack. "She's still a snake, and she still has Carter. I recommend we continue with the original plan."

"Except we didn't have one," said Daniel. "And general sir, this isn't like Kawalsky—this Jolinar doesn't want to stay in Sam."

"How do we know she's who she says she is?" demanded Jack.

"Why would a Goa'uld take on the identity of a traitor? It makes no sense, Jack," said Daniel.

He stepped away from Sam to stand by Hammond, saying quietly so Jolinar couldn't hear. "Sir, I think for Sam's sake we need to treat this less like a hostage situation, at least on the surface. Jolinar may be cooperative, but she doesn't seem like the most patient."

"General?" called Janet from where she had taken up Daniel's place. "Whatever you decide, Sam is going to need continual care."

"That is beside the question," spoke up Jolinar. "Your Carter will be well healed within two days, and already she is past any critical stage."

"I'll need to check that, sir," said Janet hesitantly. "But we do know that Goa'uld heal quickly."

Hammond frowned, and spoke after a moment. "Dr. Frasier, you will accompany the marines to an isolation chamber, where you will make sure that this Jolinar and Captain Carter are secured safely. We will continue this discussion at a later date."

"Thank you, sir," said Daniel.

"Follow me, gentlemen," said Hammond, and he turned to leave the infirmary.

Daniel looked to Sam. "Sam? Don't worry, we'll get you through this, I promise."

"We've got your back, Carter," said Jack. Teal'c nodded his equal assurance.

ooooooo

Jolinar's eyes flashed as she gave control back to Sam, but Sam had nothing to say, just watched as her team walked out of the infirmary. Then she lay back on the cot as it was wheeled down the hallway. She was a prisoner in her own body, afraid of speaking in case she might betray something to her jailor—and no one had a rescue plan, not even her.

Part of her wished that she had not been saved by this Jolinar, and it was a part that was growing stronger by the moment.


	3. Fear

**Chapter 2 - Fear**

Lying on her hospital bed in a barred cell, Sam wondered who was in control. Jolinar had ducked down while working on Sam's injuries, but the pain was still enough that Sam didn't want to try to move. Still, it couldn't hurt to—no, she couldn't even raise a finger.

_~I hate you_,~ she thought viciously to keep from acknowledging her fear.

She regretted her behavior in the infirmary, driven by that primal fear that had been cultivated over the last year and let loose by a mind uncontrolled due to pain. She only should have shown her fury, her indignation at being taken silently in her sleep again, even if it wasn't her fault. A strong face was all she should have revealed—so that pity wouldn't come into their decision. None of that hesitation. Now she was unsure of what their actions would be.

_*Your will is incredibly strong, Tauri*_

Sam would have jumped if her muscles were in her power to control—Jolinar's thought rang about her head as if spoken aloud, and her heart was pounding again. She was a host; good god, she was truly a host!

_*Oh, _don't_ go on about it,* _came Jolinar's rebuke, surprising Sam. _*You are mostly likely to escape alive from this, especially if I have anything to do with it. You Tauri may have been protected from the Goa'uld, but that has only made you irrational about their existence. Any other human would be overjoyed that my intentions were only to share and not control. What have you to worry about now?*_

_~Oh, only that my body has been taken prisoner,~ _Sam mentally shot back, glad for a focus to her frustration. _~With only the word of a snake to go on that it wasn't maliciously intended.~_

_*You saw my thoughts, you know I do not lie.*_

_~And if I hadn't been dying?~_

_*This wouldn't have happened. Do you not understand that I was as near death as you?*_

_~What exactly were you planning to do when I woke up?~ _demanded Sam. _~Explain everything and assume I'd just accept it? Oh sure, I've always wanted to give up my freedom to a needy parasite.~_

_*Your sarcasm is unappreciated,* _Jolinar growled. _*Would it cause you irreparable harm to think of me as Tok'ra or symbiote?*_

_~Worm, snake, slimy creature,~ _taunted Sam.

_*You really do want to make your situation worse,* _muttered Jolinar.

_~I want you out of me, and that is only a matter of time, so nothing I say has meaning.~_

_*I can see your thoughts, young one, I know that this situation is without precedent or easy answer to your people. And as being upset hinders my healing abilities, it is within your best interests to remain silent if you cannot be pleasant.*_

_~I used to heal just fine on my own.~_

_*Yes, over weeks and weeks of time. How efficient!*_

_~You are full of yourself, you know that!~_

Jolinar fell silent, but Sam couldn't read her thoughts, only feel mixed emotions. It was creepy, to feel someone's feelings as if they were part of her, especially as they were unclear. There was anger, frustration, regret, melancholy even, as if Sam had dredged up some uncomfortable memory. And she didn't know what to think of that—the emotions felt too human to be ignored.

But Sam wasn't anywhere near ready to acknowledge humanity of her Tok'ra invader, or of any Tok'ra for that matter, no matter their professed opinions. And so because it kept her from worrying, she simmered in anger against her oppressor.

"Sam? Or Jolinar?" Janet's hesitant voice broke through Sam's reverie, and Jolinar noticed enough to grant her control.

"It's me, Janet," said Sam. "You can't know that I'm not lying, though, so don't trust anything I say.

"Well, that sounds like Sam to me, giving good advice," said Janet.

The door of the cell opened, and Sam raised her head to see Janet wheel her medical cart in—surrounded by two very alert SFs with raised weapons. Sam lowered her head again and sighed.

"How are you feeling today?" Janet asked, coming over to check her vitals.

"Jolinar is doing her best to try and force me to be grateful," muttered Sam.

"Well, I don't begrudge her that, at least," said Janet, marveling as she looked beneath the bandages. "Whatever her motives, she is doing an excellent job. You're very lucky to be alive at all, Sam, not to mention this much recovered," she added seriously.

But before Sam could open her mouth, she added: "I know, I know, we're all as distressed as you, but don't focus all on the negative."

"It's difficult when the negative insults you in your head," muttered Sam, wincing a little as Janet did her checkup.

Janet said nothing, but eyed Sam as she worked. After a couple minutes, she added: "Are you up to visitors? Your team is very worried about this."

"Have they decided anything?" asked Sam.

"No," said Janet slowly, her face making it clear that she notice how Sam avoided the question. "The initial briefing was short and to the point, and they're reassembling today to discuss things further. We're looking for the best solution, even if it takes time."

"I don't want to wait that long," said Sam.

Janet patted Sam comfortingly on the shoulder, but her eyes were worried as she left her alone again.

_*You are very bitter,* _ commented Jolinar in Sam's head after Janet left, and Sam winced again.

_~I can't imagine why,~ _said Sam back with a healthy dose of snark that she had picked up from Colonel O'Neill and Daniel. _~I'm the woman on the team, and so far I've proved that I'm just as capable, but there's always that bit of doubt. Well now, no matter what happens, I'll have been contaminated—compromised. Even if I can get rid of you forever, will they ever trust me again?~_

_*Hasty judgment once again,* _said Jolinar.

_~Yes, born of experience,~ _said Sam. _~You know nothing of this world.~_

Jolinar fell silent, but Sam could feel the brooding and asked, _~Why do you care?~_

_*If you die, I die,* _she snapped. _*And if you are locked away until your ignorant people come up with some cure that will save you and kill me, I will have failed miserably in my task.*_

_~Task?~_

_*I cannot speak of it to you.*_

_~You know, being a little more forthright would get you a lot of points—this secrecy only makes you look more suspicious.~_

_*It would only bring you to harm to know; it is a matter for my people, and my people alone.*_

Sam got a glimpse of a Goa'uld mothership before Jolinar locked down on all her thoughts and buried them away.

_~We fight the Goa'uld as well—any knowledge you have could save lives.~_

_*Why _is_ that?* _demanded Jolinar suddenly. _*Are you really so foolish that you stuck out your heads to meddle at the first possible moment? Learning of the Goa'uld, you should have buried the gate again and hoped they wouldn't remember the Tauri, instead of messing with a carefully balanced situation.*_

_~We didn't have a choice,~ _said Sam, almost spitting the words. _~We hid the gate as we knew how, and a Goa'uld came through and took Daniel's wife. Even you should be able to understand how impossible it would be to draw back after that.~_

_*Amonet.* _said Jolinar, and the word sounded unsettling in her voice. _*She was taken by Amonet, I recognize her in your thoughts.* _She spoke no more for several moments.

_~And I am just another Sha're, now~ _said Sam. _~Except I _will_ escape.~_

ooooooo

"Daniel, _stop_ it!" demanded Jack.

Daniel looked to him, slowed his pacing, and then began it again.

"ColonelO'Neill is right," said Teal'c. "This is of no purpose."

"Jack, we're waiting for a politician to come and decide Sam's fate," said Daniel.

"And what, you're wearing a hole for him to fall through?" shot back Jack. "Sit down, Daniel! This is an inquiry, that's all."

Daniel reluctantly sat down, but he looked at Jack piercingly. "She's just another Kawalsky in your mind, isn't she?"

"Daniel, don't psychoanalyze me," Jack said in a half growl.

"At least answer the question—do you think she's been irreversibly contaminated?" pushed Daniel, more forward that usual in his frustration.

"I'm not giving up on my team," said Jack. "But Daniel, we may not have a choice."

"What if she's telling the truth? What if this Jolinar will leave Sam if we let her?" wondered Daniel.

"Daniel, save it for the meeting," sighed Jack, rubbing his eyes wearily.

Daniel let out a breath, and fell silent. Teal'c watched the two of them with one eyebrow raised, as usual.

As Daniel tapped a nervous rhythm on the table, Jack sighed and put his face in his hands, finally raising it to say in a gentler tone. "Daniel, I know what this means for you."

"Oh, do you?" murmured Daniel.

"This isn't just about Sam for you, I know," said Jack, not speaking the word 'Sha're' but implying it well enough. "But this is a totally different situation, and you need to face it for what it is."

"It's just—if we find a way here—" answered Daniel. "Even if Jolinar is a Goa'uld, she's being more cooperative than Amonet will be; maybe this is the chance we need to find a solution, and we're handing over the power to some politician's aide!"

"Hammond couldn't help it, Daniel," said Jack. "There's a chain of command that has to be followed—deal with it."

A few moments later, General Hammond himself came in the room, followed by a dark-suited man in thin glasses with a briefcase. Jack stretched and made a point of yawning.

"Sorry I'm late," said the man, sitting down. "Mr. Edwards, I'm an aide to Senator Kinsey and I'm here on his behalf."

"Oh, we know who you are," said Jack meaningfully, sitting forward to lean on his arms.

"Can we get this on the move, please?" asked Hammond.

"Of course," said Edwards. "Now, we've all been briefed of the current scenario, so let's just discuss what options we have. Gentlemen?"

There was a pause, as all the rest of SG-1 seemed to silently protest the business-like demeanor. But it wasn't as if they had a choice on the manner of the briefing.

"We could attempt to remove the symbiote from Captain Carter," began Teal'c.

"We could help this Jolinar so that she would leave Sam," added Daniel.

"We could keep them both locked up until a better option comes along," said Jack pointedly.

"Mr. Teal'c," said Edwards, after taking notes on their contributions. "Are you aware of the current research on the symbiote/host relationship in Area 51?"

"Indeed," said Teal'c.

Edwards blinked, but then continued. "Then you know that we still have not found a reasonable explanation for the failure of Major Kawalsky's extraction procedure."

"But hasn't there been some progress?" asked Daniel. "I mean, surely the knowledge that the Goa'uld can be removed without harm to the host has helped, and they know that there are tendrils that have to be dealt with."

"Yes, Dr. Jackson," said Edwards, "the report about Kendra was of some use, but knowing that there is an answer doesn't make it easier to find."

"Which is why we should wait," said Jack.

"But why not explore the possibility that this Jolinar isn't like the other Goa'uld we've seen?" put in Daniel, changing tack. "Surely it's evident by now that something's different."

"A little too perfectly different, don't you think?" said Edwards, letting the heels of his hands rest on the table as his fingers leaned together. "It's as if she knew exactly what information would make us stop and think. Clever, shrewd, but not enough that we should believe her."

"I don't know about that," said Daniel, forehead lined as he thought. "It was hardly the best impression and first contact—a crude attempt, really."

"She knew what to say to get you going, Daniel," put in Jack reluctantly.

"No, she didn't," said Daniel. "She was frustrated with me, insulted me."

"Goa'uld, Daniel. Arrogance? Even being clever won't erase that."

"It didn't feel like that, Jack," protested Daniel.

"Gentlemen, you're missing the vital point here," broke in Edwards. Jack and Daniel both paused to look at him. "It doesn't matter if this Jolinar was truthful or not—there's no reason to trust her, nothing that she offered as a payoff."

"Other than CaptainCarter," added Teal'c.

"A worthy goal, to be sure," said Edwards. "But not enough to risk national security—even Captain Carter would understand that."

"Exactly," said Daniel, looking up. "If it were a plan, wouldn't Jolinar have had something to bargain with? I really think she's winging it—and maybe we can negotiate, then."

"Negotiate with a Goa'uld, Daniel?" said Jack skeptically. "Over my dead body!"

"Not with a Goa'uld, Jack," said Daniel. "If she's a Goa'uld, even Sam wouldn't want that—but what if the Tok'ra really are real? It can't hurt to interrogate Jolinar, in any case."

"I agree with Dr. Jackson," said Edwards, prompting both Jack and Daniel to look up in surprise. Edwards finished taking his notes, and put them back in the briefcase. "At this moment, the government is in no great hurry to do anything with the case—there's just not enough evidence. If and when there is another option, we will discuss this further."

"This meeting is dismissed," said General Hammond with a nod. "Colonel O'Neill? Dr. Jackson? You will either take your turns with the prisoner, or interrogate her at once, but I want some answers out of this creature."

"I will accompany them to verify any information," said Teal'c.

"Good," said General Hammond. "Let's get to it!" He got up and left the table with Edwards.

"That wasn't too painful," muttered Jack, rising and stretching. Teal'c stood up as well.

Daniel still sat, tapping his fingers on the table with a frown on his face.

"Well, Daniel?" asked Jack. "You got extra time, you got permission to talk to the damned thing, what's wrong?"

"What happens if we get nothing?" asked Daniel. "Are we going to get something worse next?"

"Yes," said Jack bluntly. "So, Daniel, get up and do your job! Carter's counting on us."

Daniel sighed and stood up, collecting the notepad and pen he had not written on. It was all too anticlimactic—there was something bubbling under the surface that would erupt soon into something else, and he was worried that he wouldn't see it coming.

ooooooo

Sam just wanted to feel alone. Jolinar's presence gave her no immediate fear, and she wasn't even worried about what the symbiote might be able to do to her—immersion in this world of being host had numbed her to any horror, and now she was merely frustrated. Not merely, though—almost all of her consciousness was full of seething, simmering, boiling, growing frustration, and only Jolinar's control kept it from escaping.

Jolinar was refusing to speak to Sam, which, considering Sam's opinion of her symbiote, was good for them both at the moment. Sam felt a bit of victory at beating her tormentor into silence, even though she had a feeling that Jolinar could give better than she got if she felt like it. But no, the symbiote was hidden in her own thoughts, and Sam didn't want to give anything away by an equal indulgence.

God, she just wanted to feel comfortable in her own thoughts again!

On the up side, she probably could have moved if she was in control. It had been very unnerving to literally be able to feel her body knitting itself together, becoming as flawless as if fire had never touched it. It wasn't there yet—there were still many areas where she could feel the burn of bright red scorches, as Jolinar had addressed nerve damage first. But her head at least was fully healed, and her pain was only moderate. Janet had not administered any further pain medicine out of ignorance of what that would do—Jolinar had informed and even insisted that it would change nothing, but both Sam and Janet were skeptical enough to refuse.

Though Sam was aching to move, to shake off her growing tension, Jolinar had no such desire. Perhaps it was because she was too busy healing, perhaps she did not give over control for fear that Sam would injure what she was trying to heal, or perhaps she didn't feel the need—Janet had propped up the hospital bed in a sitting position, and that's how Sam lay, unswaveringly.

She saw a shadow outside the cell door, and the guards turned as the door opened and Daniel and Jack walked in. Sam's heart leapt a bit, and even Jolinar seemed to pay attention. Jack said something quiet to the guards, and they left their watch on the barred area to stand outside the closed door.

"Well?" asked Jolinar. "Bring you news?"

"As if you deserve any!" said Jack briskly. "You can just stop expecting any courtesy—you won't get any."

"I assume you are not on a social call," continued Jolinar unfazed.

"Not in your presence, I think not," said Jack, settling in his stance a few feet from the door.

"We've been authorized to negotiate with you," added Daniel, more mollifying.

The door opened again, and Teal'c entered.

"Ah, the whole team," commented Jolinar. "You are the highest officials this base has to offer?"

"We are the most qualified for this scenario, yes," said Daniel, avoiding giving information that was unnecessary.

"You know, Daniel here wants to vouch for you," put in Jack. "But all I'm seeing is Goa'uld arrogance, simple and unjustified. You're only asking for a swift end."

Sam didn't know what to think of the opening volley, but she couldn't help but feel that both sides didn't seem to think she was there. She didn't actually know how much she was, or even if she wanted to. Deeply set in her own mind, she watched with worry.

ooooooo

Jolinar glared from Sam's face, a disconcerting sight to anyone who was familiar with Sam's usual expression. "What do you wish?" she asked.

"Actually, the question is more, what do you wish?" said Daniel.

Jolinar snorted. "My freedom—and a new host, for I will not stay in an unwilling one. I have no designs."

"Well, that's—that's good," said Daniel, a little surprised. He exchanged glances with a suspicious-looking Jack.

"Sorry, not going to happen," Jack answered Jolinar. "If you haven't noticed, we aren't the sort of people who offer one of ours as a sacrifice."

"Have you no people who would wish to fight the Goa'uld more effectively than this frail base can?" demanded Jolinar.

"By being a host? You have got to be insane!" said Jack.

True words, Jack, but your delivery?

"No it is only that you are bound by your ignorant prejudices," said Jolinar. "The Tok'ra have only survived because of the willingness of some to forego a little convenience for the sake of all."

"A little convenience, right," drawled Jack. "Losing your body and mind to a snake—sure, that's real small."

"The Tok'ra do not take!" said Jolinar, flashing her eyes again. "Host and symbiote share the body equally, asking permission."

"So you keep saying..." said Jack, but the tip of his head towards her was obviously Jack's implication that actions spoke louder than words.

"We don't have another host for you," said Daniel curtly. "Sorry. Anything else?"

"If you let me go through the gate, I promise that I will find another host and return your Carter to you," swore Jolinar.

Daniel and Jack shared a knowing look, then Daniel spoke. "Jolinar—I'm afraid we can't allow that. Even if we trusted you to follow through, you know too much about our facilities. You have access to Sam's mind, for all we can tell, and everything she knew. We aren't going to let that just walk through our gate."

"Then I am a prisoner with no hope of escape," countered Jolinar. "What possible motive could I have to cooperate with you?"

"It wouldn't be so hopeless if you had demands that made sense," retorted Jack.

"Eventually we _will_ find a way to remove you from Sam," said Daniel gravely. "Your actions now will decide whether we let you live or die then."

Jolinar gave them the silent treatment, and Jack was about to burst in with a biting comment when an SF pulled him to the side to speak to him.

Daniel sighed, squinted, and took off his glasses. Brow furrowed, he rubbed them on his cotton t-shirt and put them back on. Jolinar was still glaring.

"Okay, change of plans!" said Jack crisply as the SF left. Daniel recognized the tone as Jack's over-bright way of dealing with trouble, and waited for the shoe to drop. "So, Jolly, wanna tell us why, since you're so honorable, you didn't let us know about your other Goa'uld friend?"

"I have none," answered Jolinar swiftly, but her brow furrowed.

"Well, an escaped prisoner who left behind a trail of victims claiming attack by a hand device would say otherwise," said Jack, giving a glance over to Daniel.

Jolinar did not look the least bit guilty—instead, she lowered her head a little, and gazed at them squarely. "It is the ashrak."

"Riiiiight," said Jack. He turned to Daniel and Teal'c, eyebrows raised.

"An assassin," said Teal'c.

"Great," muttered Jack.

"He is looking only for me," said Jolinar. "I am his mission."

"And, you didn't tell us about this earlier, why?" asked Jack.

"I thought he might have perished," said Jolinar. "And secrecy was the best option. He does not know my face, nor I his."

"Assassin incognito, just what we need," said Jack.

"We still don't know where he is?" asked Daniel, worried.

"Nope, could be anywhere. And since this is a galactic waste of my time, I'm going to go do something about it." Jack marched off with a final withering glance to Jolinar.

"My services also would be of better use elsewhere, as I can with focus detect the presence of a Goa'uld in its host," said Teal'c.

"Right," said Daniel, watching as his support left the room.

Jolinar settled back into the hospital bed and eyed Daniel. "Well?"

"I don't get it," said Daniel, arms resting crossed over his chest. "You have an assassin after you, and so you insult the only people who could help you."

"You cannot help me," said Jolinar. "Only I can stage my own escape. And this is no new scenario, I have been trailed for over two hundred years by one ashrak or another."

Daniel blinked. "Oh."

"You will not find him," added Jolinar. "He has been studying the ways of infiltration and subterfuge since long before your oldest citizen was born."

"Well, we're pretty secure here—he can't just waltz in," said Daniel, though frowning. "You don't have any advice about how to find him?"

"I have sought to avoid him, not attack him—even I would consider that foolish," said Jolinar.

"Well, we have different resources. Why don't you tell us what you know?" Daniel asked hopefully.

Jolinar eyed him suspiciously. "And why should I offer up information to ones who have no thought of returning the favor?"

"What, you want information?" asked Daniel.

"No, I want my freedom—but you do not seem to want what I can give you in payment."

"Yeah, it's frustrating," said Daniel. "To be honest, I'm not sure what I think about your motives. I know Jack and Hammond are dead set against you, but Teal'c might eventually come to your side. We just need more proof of good will."

"The more you know, the more you are put in danger," said Jolinar sharply. "Especially as long as I am here."

"Well, do you see that changing any time soon?" asked Daniel. "You're digging your own grave."

Jolinar said nothing for a moment, then cocked her head as if remembering something. "I can help you find her," she said.

"What?" asked Daniel, surprised and confused.

"Sha're—I know where she is. If you help me escape—"

"Don't," said Daniel shortly. "I don't know what you've pulled from Sam's head, but bringing it up now only shows desperation, not trustworthiness."

"If you think it a bribe, then go to your superiors—this is not all I know that may be of interest to you, if my freedom is but promised." Jolinar gave a half-smile, but Daniel could feel the manipulation. And maybe, yes, maybe it was only hiding desperation. He didn't like it, and turned to leave.

"Your loss," added Jolinar muttering.

Daniel turned back to face her. "Sam?" he said earnestly, giving Jolinar cause to pause in surprise. "Whatever happens—I'm so sorry." Then he left.

Things were getting more twisted by the hour, and Daniel was losing what hope he had.


	4. Catalyst

**Chapter 3 - Catalyst**

_~Why did you do that, bring up Sha're?~ _demanded Sam. _~Of all the cards to play, Daniel wouldn't go for that one.~_

_*What, now you have thoughts?* _said Jolinar._ *And yet your mind was silent for all that time, giving me nothing.*_

_~I just wanted to watch you fail,~ _said Sam.

_*You are even more of a fool than I first imagined,* _muttered Jolinar.

_~You only say that because I am growing defiant,~ _answered Sam. _~You don't like that, do you.~_

_*You speak of what you know not,* _spat Jolinar. _*And I grow weary of it.*_

Sam felt another moment of grief flash from Jolinar before she stuffed it down, and Sam doubted for a moment. _~You're not lying, are you,~ _she said.

_*Why would I?* _retorted Jolinar shortly. _*If I wished, I could lie to you all I wanted, and you would never emerge to reveal it. But can you name one thing that I have said that I have not supported?*_

_~You haven't left me, yet,~ _said Sam, but she knew it was a excuse that was wearing thin. _~But why get so angry? It only makes people suspicious.~_

_*As if I choose to,* _snorted Jolinar. _*I am but at war with my nature, as are you all—my anger is not a negotiation technique.*_

_~Okay, so you have a temper,~ _acknowledged Sam, feeling almost tickled at having drawn this information from the symbiote. She stopped to think. _~Why can't you see everything in my mind?~ _she asked. _~We always assumed that the Goa'uld could do so.~_

_*They can,*_ said Jolinar. _*But I am not one of them.*_

_~So you lose that by becoming a Tok'ra?~ _Sam couldn't believe she was talking like this to—to whatever Jolinar was.

_*Not physically. But the sharing of minds can only come when both are open to the idea of blending, or when the symbiote overpowers and forces its way into the host's mind. As the latter is both torturous for the host and a misuse of power for the symbiote, the Tok'ra only accept the minds of those willing to blend. As you are not.*_

_~Oh,~_ said Sam, starting to feel strange. _~So you can't see any of my thoughts?~_

_*Only those you recklessly let loose where I can see them,* _said Jolinar. _*I have been used to only blended relationships—your closed mind is just another frustration to this situation.*_

_~What, on top of the assassin coming for us? You do have a plan, right?~_

_*Die with honor,* _said Jolinar darkly.

Sam felt a twinge of fear. _~Exactly what does that mean?~ _

_*All the years I have escaped from these ashrak they send, I have been free to move as I pleased. Trapped here, I have no course of action.*_

_~You are not taking me with you,~ _ordered Sam. _~If you really wish to leave me unharmed, you won't give up.~_

_*I have not, but there is no option open at the moment,* _ said Jolinar wearily.

Sam didn't say anything in response, just began to run over all the variables in the situation.

ooooooo

"So, no luck with Jolly?" asked Jack, as Daniel came up to where he was at the entrance to Cheyenne Mountain.

"She didn't have anything else to say," intoned Daniel. "Oh wait, no, she brought up Sha're. Then I left." His arms rested uncomfortably across his chest.

"Bitch," muttered Jack.

"She was probably just desperate," allowed Daniel. "But I'm not in the mood."

"Yeah, that whole conversation has me in the mood to kill some Goa'uld," said Jack, holding his gun firmly.

"I don't know if I want to kill anything, I just want this to be over with," said Daniel a little disgustedly.

"Yeah, and how would that be?"

"We might just have to remove her from Sam," said Daniel curtly.

"What, no negotiation?" Jack looked a little surprised.

"Time's running out for Sam if a Goa'uld is trying to find her—and I can't negotiate with someone who isn't willing to cooperate." Daniel looked grim.

Jack grunted in agreement.

"So, what are we doing here?" asked Daniel rather pathetically after a second. There was some piece of equipment at the door connected to a computer, two marines standing by, and Jack a few feet off and armed as usual.

"All entry points are forcing palm scans—only base personnel allowed."

"You think it will work?" asked Daniel.

"No," said Jack, indicating his gun.

Daniel nodded. "So, I was thinking, why does helping people always lead to complications for us? Not for SG-3, or SG-5, or any other SG team...usually just us."

"Because we're _special_, Daniel," said Jack as if Daniel was his four-year-old son, but the disgust was hidden beneath. "Have you reported to Hammond?" he asked, deftly changing the subject.

"Yeah," said Daniel. "Well, not a full report, you know, just the main points. Edwards is going to report back in a few hours, and if we don't have the Goa'uld by then, we might have to make a decision." He trailed off, and looked at Jack. After a moment, he added. "Jack, what is with you? I mean, I thought you'd be all up in arms about this."

"Daniel, we've been through this," said Jack. "It's not like I can do anything."

"That doesn't really stop you at other times," pointed out Daniel.

"You want my thoughts?" demanded Jack. "This is damned unfair. Carter's the one person who's consistently cautious and careful on our missions, and always watching our backs—and this happens anyway! I don't want to lose all my people, Daniel—they're always the best, and I just can't take anymore. But if I start mouthing off, that worm Edwards is going to start making rash decisions, and Carter deserves more than that from us."

Daniel raised an eyebrow.

Jack gave him a look. "What?"

"Nothing," said Daniel.

Another camo-clothed denizen walked past them, and Daniel frowned. He looked to Jack. "Wait, what's that?"

They both looked to the palm reader, where the computer was flashing red and the marine stood as if in a daze.

"Damn it!" swore Jack, and looked over his shoulder. The perpetrator was gone. "Grab a gun, Daniel, he's after Carter!" he called as he dashed down the hall.

Daniel ran over to the marines, shaking them until they roused themselves. "Get to the infirmary," advised Daniel. He grabbed one of their sidearms, and then followed after Jack.

He had been hoping for something to change so that the decision would be clear. Now all he wished for was that there would still be a decision to make.

ooooooo

After another idea gave her only frustration, Sam stopped to let her mind cool down.

_*You really think your people will keep you safe,* _said Jolinar finally after a long silence.

_~Yes. And no. I always want to have a plan B; but they know what to look for, I don't think they'll be caught off guard.~_

_*They're facing a foe that is unfamiliar to them, and specifically trained to get past them. I hope you have a plan B soon,* _Jolinar finished grimly.

_~What, you can't think for yourself?~ _asked Sam.

_*To escape or defend a facility whose only rooms I have seen have been medical center and holding cell? I'm not that overconfident,* _said Jolinar. _*My only reliance can be on you.*_

_~I don't know if that's a compliment, but it doesn't really matter,~ _said Sam. _~Wait, you said escape?~_

_*My first plan is hardly dying here,* _snorted Jolinar.

_~I hadn't been considering those options,~ _said Sam.

_*I did notice,* _said Jolinar.

_~I think you're right here,~ _acknowledged Sam reluctantly. _~There's no hope cornered, if that ashrak really knows where you are.~_

_*By now he will have become aware of the situation with you—your people have not been discreet,* _ said Jolinar with dark disapproval.

_~Can I have control?~ _ Sam suddenly asked, feeling odd, but familiar enough with the symbiote to make the question odd only due to her former defiance.

Jolinar silently granted her power of her limbs. Sam was feeling better—sore and burning in areas, but ready to move. She had to move, the tension was getting to her. Sitting fully up, she found that she only had to wince a little, and even standing completely up didn't hurt nearly as much as it should have. Symbiotes were good for something, she decided.

_*You're welcome, _ said Jolinar with dark humor.

"Okay, I think I've got something," said Sam, glad to be speaking out loud at last. Her throat was dry, but she cleared it, and then made her way to the cell door.

_*Your plan?* _inquired Jolinar.

"You give me super strength, right?" asked Sam.

_*At full health, yes, your strength would be greater than naturally,* _said Jolinar, with a smirk at the "super" part that Sam could almost seem to see.

"The guards are guarding the door from outside now. Can I rip a pin from the lock if I can get to it?"

_*Yes,*_ said Jolinar, catching on quickly.

Sam carefully removed her IV, and then ripped the tubing from the plastic back. Walking gingerly over to the door, her burns threatening to scream at any moment, she stretched her fingers for a second before using the needle to rip the tubing into thinner pieces. When she had a small enough piece of plastic, she poked her finger at the lock.

"Yes," she muttered satisfactorily. Carefully, she began to thread the plastic into the lock, dodging this and that piece of the mechanism, and wrapping around one part she knew would be useful for her plan. After circling the part a couple times, she threaded the plastic out again. "Jolinar?"

Jolinar took control for a second and with a sharp pull, the lock snapped loudly and Sam's tender shoulder screamed. Jolinar granted the control back to Sam, who swallowed her pain before getting back to the lock. With that one part broken, Sam used the IV needle to poke another part aside, then drawing another part forward, until the lock was sufficiently unstable. Jolinar saw the last part of the plan, took control again, and grasping the bars of the cell, pulled the door away from the wall.

The lock broke and the door opened.

"Chock one up for Macgyver," muttered Sam with a dark grin. She moved carefully over to the locked door and peeked through. The two marines were standing nervously, having been warned that a Goa'uld might be headed their way, determined to hold the locked cell from any intruders.

"I can't unlock this one," whispered Sam. "It's electronic, and would need a hack, and I have nothing."

Suddenly Jolinar took over her limbs.

_~Hey,~ _said Sam, caught off guard and suddenly terrified that she had made an error in judgment.

_*I have been more than usually patient,* _said Jolinar. _*Now that you have come to your senses and realized that the only way out is cooperation, you will have to forgive me if I take initiative.*_

Sam's fear was proven false. Though every part of her mind still flinched at the invasion, her logic forced her to grant a semblance of permission to Jolinar.

Jolinar moved into a solid position behind the door, then let out a terrified scream in a quiet tone, so that it could have been coming from across the room. Sam was surprised at the genuine terror that Jolinar infused into her ploy; she was a competent actress. Sam watched as the marines jumped at the sound, looking worried out of their minds, and fumbled for the key card to open the door. They stumbled in, but only a moment of confusion was granted them, as Jolinar stepped forward and neatly knocked their heads together.

_~You didn't need to do that,~ _said Sam.

_*Desperate times,*_ said Jolinar. _*And will it not save them a 'court-martial'?*_

Sam didn't answer. Jolinar reached down, picked up the key card and a sidearm, and then neatly stripped the coat from the man. Putting it on over her hospital scrubs, she held the gun in one hand and the card in another, then marched out of the door and down the hall.

_~Wait, where are you going?~ _asked Sam, unsure.

_*To the Stargate,* _ said Jolinar.

_~No,~_ commanded Sam. _~If you are anything you say you are, you will march back to that cell.~_

_*And wait for my trial and execution? I am facing two enemies now.*_

_~You said this was just an accident, that you were saving us both,~ _pushed Sam. _~And now you're kidnapping me?~_

_*The safest place is off-world,* _pushed Jolinar back. _*The ashrak could appear at any moment, and he deals out death swiftly.*_

_~And we'll never get back,~ _declared Sam. _~My GDO code will be locked out, and I'll be stranded off-world, no matter what happens to you. I think not.~_

_*Death is preferable to banishment? Your race can be idiotic as well as strange,* _Jolinar declared bluntly. _*Well, I will not allow you to be so.*_

_~So you don't really share, you just do what you think is best,~ _said Sam darkly.

_*Will you despise me forever if I continue down this path of action?*_ asked Jolinar pointedly, pausing to wait for an answer.

Sam felt manipulated, frustrated, and begrudging all at once. Jolinar was using the danger to get her freedom, and yet she had only good points that Sam really didn't want to have to acknowledge. She felt that if she said 'yes' now, Jolinar would stop—when had she started to trust a symbiote? What was wrong with her? And yet—wasn't it her duty to survive? Sam felt that she might regret this, but no more than if she stayed and found that a mistake had been made—it was a devil's choice, and Sam decided to go with the path of least resistance and at least some hope.

_~No, I won't hate you. But I go protesting.~ _

_*Good,* _ said Jolinar bluntly, and began walking again.

Jolinar chose the halls of least traffic, the stairs instead of the elevator, as most personnel were stationed for battle against a Goa'uld invader and she read from Sam's mind where those stations would be.

_*Well, any more information? Or are you going to be tight-lipped and bitter?* _ asked Jolinar as they neared the gate-room.

_~The gate-room will be heavily guarded. And I'm not going to let you get away with shooting anyone.~ _answered Sam.

_*If I but stun?*_

_~You mean use a zat gun?~_

_*Zat'nik'tel. Why must you corrupt and bastardize perfectly meaningful language?* _muttered Jolinar.

_~I bet you've always hated how long that word was,~ _challenged Sam, and was gratified to not receive an immediate response—probably Jolinar's way of avoiding admission of loss in an argument.

Catching a random stray thought of Sam's and latching onto it, Jolinar found an armory and snatched a zat for her own. Down the hall, there were footsteps approaching, and so, hurrying, even as the quick movement tore at scabs, Jolinar ran towards the gate-room.

Sam had been right, and the marines were on guard. But Jolinar was swift and expertly talented, glancing off five shots of the zat before they acknowledged their presence, and downing the other marines in their shock and confusion at the escape of their prisoner. Before even all that was done, she was charging up the stairs. Sam cringed as she saw and felt herself being used to take down her people, but as she could feel no malice coming from Jolinar, she couldn't bring herself to be bitter.

Jolinar approached the terrified gate technicians. "Open the gate, now!" she demanded.

"We—can't. Sorry," stammered one, a brainy looking man without a gun.

"Put the zat down!" demanded the second gate tech, a woman with a fierce red ponytail, who had whipped out a gun after overcoming her second of shock.

Jolinar eyed her, assessing her strengths. When the woman did not make a move as Jolinar refused, it was a quick-draw, and the enhanced reflexes of the symbiote won. The woman spasmed and went down in blue lightning, but not before her weapon fired, and a bullet grazed through Sam's shoulder. Jolinar winced, but her eyes flashed, and the other gate tech seemed about to die of fright.

"I will not ask again," said Jolinar slowly, stepping forward and towering over him.

"I can't!" he squeaked.

_~Tell him to do it quietly and no one gets hurt, but tell him you'll blow the whole place if he doesn't. That should give him an excuse that will get him out of trouble,~ _ said Sam, betraying her own and hating herself for it.

"Let me through the gate, or I will overload your systems and send this pathetic facility in all directions and in tiny pieces," threatened Jolinar. "Do you want to be the instrument of so many deaths?"

"You—you wouldn't," said the gate-tech.

Jolinar cast a lazy glance over the zatted bodies, her performance convincing in its languid determination.

The gate-tech swallowed and quickly typed in his password. Jolinar zatted him for good measure, and stepped forward. "Waste of time," she muttered, pausing and then quickly typing something into the computer that Sam didn't recognize before punching in an address that Sam did not know.

_~I didn't have the password. But you didn't have to zat him.~_

"I don't leave loose ends that could spoil the plan," said Jolinar. "He'll be fine."

The gate shuddered and started to dial.

_~You're burning all your bridges,~ _added Sam, as Jolinar stepped down to the ramp, ripping a piece of the scrubs to stop the bleeding from the shoulder wound. _~You won't ever gain their trust now.~_

_*I don't need it,* _said Jolinar.

The gate locked the final chevron, and as the burst of blue watery wormhole filled the room, there was the sound of a gun cocking behind them. Jolinar turned, and there was another marine—his eyes flashed.

"Jolinar of Malkshur, you will perish by the order of the System Lords," he declared in tones that rang through the room.

Jolinar cursed to herself, and ran up the ramp in a final effort. A sudden spray of bullets followed, and before she launched herself through the wormhole, Sam felt the impact and two new holes in her side and shoulder. The wormhole travel was brief, and as they rolled out of the gate on the other side, Sam would have screamed in agony had she been able. She was shot, twice plus a graze, and the new sharp pain was added to her nearly-fresh burns that sent pulses of pain.

Jolinar held up her weapon to the event horizon in case the ashrak would follow, but apparently he saw too much risk in going to an unknown planet. The wormhole shut down, and with a sigh of released tension, Jolinar gave in to the pain. They were seeping blood out onto the hard ground, and Jolinar used all her strength to stop what she could. Sam's consciousness was overwhelmed, though, and she began to lose it. Darkness was filling her sight, and her last thought was how terrible her luck must be, given that she was actually relieved to be a host on a strange planet with extensive injuries.

_~Godawful luck; what higher power did I piss off?~_

The irony attached to that particular turn of phrase didn't escape her or Jolinar, but any response was lost as Sam faded out of consciousness again.


	5. Burnt Bridges

**Chapter 4 - Burnt Bridges**

Though awaking after unneeded rest, Sam came to with a burden of weariness. The pain was greater than it had been the last time she awoke, and though it was still only throbbing, her emotions were already affected. She had survived, but by destroying probably her only possible options back to a normal life. And Jolinar was very clearly still present. Sam wasn't sure she could handle all three.

_~God, I hate you,~ _was her first thought, blunt and earnest.

_*I'll keep in mind that I should let you die to avoid this reaction,* _said Jolinar, who was obviously still trying to heal Sam.

_~The sarcasm is not appreciated,~_ snapped Sam.

_*Neither is the ingratitude,*_ bit back Jolinar.

_~You deserve little,~_ said Sam bitterly. After a moment, the flare of anger faded to an ember. _~Okay, you deserve a bit. But I can give that and not have to be grateful for the chaos and trouble you brought into my life.~_

_*At least you have one,* _said Jolinar.

_~For how long?~_

_*We need to focus on the present, not the future,* _said Jolinar brusquely. _*After you lost consciousness, I used your left arm to halt the bleeding in the bullet wounds on your side. One struck a rib high on your right side, the other imbedded itself lower down in the tissue, though not in any organ. The bullet that grazed your shoulder did enough damage that I couldn't use it until after stopping the bleeding, and then repairing the nerve damage. That's all I've been able to do so far, so we have a long road before you start demanding what my future plans are.*_

_~All right, all right~ _ said Sam. _~Where's the Stargate?~_

_*I crawled to the tree-line for safety,* _said Jolinar. _*No one's come through, there's no immediate danger, so please be silent while I do my work.*_

Sam felt like a child being rebuked, and her rebellion began to grow strong—but her common sense was still ruling, and she bit everything down. Of course, it would have been easier to actively rebel; the pain was so great, and her doubt and worry was turning to despair. They were free, but where would they go? And once Jolinar took a new host, how would Sam get back? She couldn't go directly without a good GDO, a ship would take years without hyperspace, which she was pretty sure was only on ships too large for her to acquire, and there were no allies with GDOs that she could remember. The best course of action would be to seek out an SG team on a mission, but that would be random guessing—it could take years.

And then what? They wouldn't—couldn't—welcome her with open arms. There would be hundreds of tests, weeks at least of confinement, and a possibility that she would never be allowed in the SGC again. After all, she would have been taken by the enemy, a highly advanced enemy, and even if the symbiotic presence was gone, they could never know what had been done to her.

Even if they let her back to the base at all. They might just suspect a spy or a tracking device or a bomb or some other trap, and shoot her on sight or keep her locked up indefinitely. No, she was well and truly screwed at every turn. And she could have avoided it by staying in the SGC, or at least some of it. But then she would almost surely be dead, and was that really better?

_*No,* _put in Jolinar, and Sam bit back a resentful protest at the invasion of—well, the symbiote couldn't help that there was no privacy.

_~Do you have any estimate on how soon I'll be able to move again?~ _asked Sam wearily.

_*Many hours. And even then, not for long. Another trip through the Stargate, and then at least a day of bed-rest. I am growing incredibly fatigued at tending to the stress put upon the healing tissue and stitches.*_

_~But there's no food, no shelter here,~ _said Sam. _~So what planet will we go to?~_

_*The Tok'ra home-world, of course,* _said Jolinar. _*There you can be properly healed.*_

Sam felt a burst of panic, but she suppressed it. _~I don't think I trust you that far.~_

_*You'd rather stay here? The ashrak may know this address. He is planning his course carefully, so the delay is only temporary.*_

_~If he survived at all,~ _countered Sam. _~But just because I cooperated with you for a short time doesn't mean I trust you. Far from it—I have absolutely no way to fully confirm your story. ~_

_*As if you could defend yourself if I was false,* _snorted Jolinar. _*I am growing equally weary of your attitude. Thankfully you will see it proved false shortly.*_

Sam had to admit—her suspicions had not seen any evidence, at least not recently. But she was a skeptic, and wouldn't let her guard down.

_*Suit yourself,* _ said Jolinar as no protest came from Sam.

There being nothing to be on guard against at the moment, Sam tried to focus on ignoring the pain. She had never been good at meditation, but thankfully the weakness of her body served her well, and she drifted off to sleep.

She didn't dream, again, and woke up with a yawn and—she realized she was in control. In fact, she couldn't really feel Jolinar at all. _~Uh, Jolinar?~_

_*So now you wake?*_ The symbiote sounded just a bit testy.

_~What were you doing?~_

_*I cannot heal you any further without sustenance and rest, which you so graciously disturbed.*_

_~Hey, as if I can control when I wake up.~ _Sam discovered that she felt the pain less now, and was able to sit up relatively well. Carefully, she moved her right arm. The barely healed wounds stretched, but she felt relatively all together. _~Thanks,~_ she said sincerely. _~I thought I was going to lose it.~_

_*You did,*_ said Jolinar bluntly, but Sam couldn't bring herself to be ruffled at the symbiote's lack of tact.

_~So, can we get this over with?~ _asked Sam. _~What happens when we reach your home-world and I'm fully healed?~_

_*I will request a new host, as I promised,* _said Jolinar.

_~So, this might be over in a matter of days?~ _asked Sam hopefully.

Jolinar kept a brooding silence for a moment, and Sam's heart sunk.

_~Okay, what's wrong?~ _she asked.

_*I cannot leave you for another week at least,* _said Jolinar.

_~What, why?~_

_*It is a dangerous and weakening process, to take a new host,* _answered Jolinar. _*I have spent most of my strength healing you so many times, and even once you are fully healed and I am recovered, my departure is not an easy or pleasant prospect.*_

Sam's mind got flashes of images, of the physical form of Jolinar and how she was literally blended in with Sam's spine. It was disturbing, and Sam didn't want to think of it, but she thought she might understand. _~So, it actually rips part of you to leave a host?~ _she asked.

_*To put it simply. It is not good for a symbiote to remove to a new host more than once in a year, let alone the time we have spent. It has never been done. I may die.*_

Sam didn't say anything. A piece of her was ready to leap to say 'oh, don't risk your life, I don't expect you to leave so soon'—and a deeper piece was still so full of disgust that she couldn't fully stomach the prospect of having Jolinar in her head any longer than necessary.

But was guilt necessary? _~I—I don't want you to die,~ _Sam offered. It was weak, but it was all she could give.

_*That's a change,*_ said Jolinar, and Sam could almost see an imaginary eyebrow rise.

_~I think we can work something out,~ _said Sam, growing a little bolder. _~Besides, if you died while I was with your people, I doubt they'd let me go free and clear.~_

_*You have much to learn of the Tok'ra, then,* _said Jolinar, less pleased.

Sam was a little surprised, but had nothing further to say.

_*You should sleep again,* _said Jolinar. _*I will finish with the necessary repairs, and then we will be on the move.*_

_~Good, I hate waiting,~ _said Sam. It took her a few minutes to stop thinking about all the complications they had been discussing, but she was well ready for rest again.

ooooooo

"What do you mean, she's gone?" said Jack, hands on hips as they all assembled in the control room.

"She knocked out the guards, and apparently disappeared through the gate before we got the ashrak," explained Daniel.

"Apparently?" asked Jack.

"Well, no one actually saw her, but there wasn't anywhere else to go," said Daniel with a heavy sigh. "And there was blood on the ramp, but the ashrak wasn't wounded—well, not then anyway."

"This is just great," ground out Jack.

"Do we know to which planet Jolinar took CaptainCarter?" asked Teal'c.

"No," said Daniel, disappointed. "She must have used Sam's knowledge to block the computer from logging the planet."

"And the ashrak was the only one in the room to see the address?" asked Hammond.

"Yes," said Daniel. "We have someone reviewing the security footage, but she was efficient in every other way, so I doubt they'll get much."

"Not that I blame whoever killed that bastard, but..." Jack trailed off. "What were you doing near the gate room, Daniel?"

"I thought it was the most likely place for the ashrak to go, after I saw that Jolinar had been released somehow. I thought he might have kidnapped her to escape through the Stargate," said Daniel. "Where did you go?"

"Towards a different exit," said Jack grimly. "What a botch-up this was!"

"Let me get this straight," said Hammond, stepping forward between the two. "This Jolinar has been wounded, and has escaped through the gate to some unknown planet?"

"Yes sir," said Daniel.

"Then the first thing we need to do is change SG-1's GDO code, and any other codes that Carter might have known," said Hammond.

"And then?" asked Daniel.

"There's nothing we can do then, Dr. Jackson, other than continue the working of this facility," said Hammond grimly.

"So what, we leave her behind? Declare her MIA?" asked Daniel. "That's it?"

"What do you want, Daniel, a memorial service?" asked Jack.

"God, no," said Daniel earnestly. "But she's out there..." and he trailed off, as he could see in the others' faces the word they were failing to say. Like Sha're.

"I'm sorry Daniel, but we can't do anything," said Jack more softly, coming forward and putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Isn't that just becoming the theme of my life," muttered Daniel, trying hard to swallow down the emotion.

"CaptainCarter will be much missed during her absence," said Teal'c, dipping his head respectfully.

"Yeah, thanks for the optimism,Teal'c," said Daniel with a weak smile.

"We'll find her," promised Jack, but Daniel wondered if it was meant for him or for Jack.

"All teams will be advised to only zat Captain Carter if they come across her," said Hammond. "We aren't giving up yet, Dr. Jackson. We'll do what we can."

"Sir, about SG-1?" asked Jack seriously.

"You'll need to find a new member," said Hammond. "But there's no need now—you'll be on stand-down for a week. You're in no shape to go out on a mission yet."

"Thank you, sir," said Jack.

Hammond nodded, and marched off to give further orders. Daniel stood, looking out over the gate room where already things were being cleaned up. The ashrak, zatted twice by a marine who came on the scene just a few seconds late to see anything useful, was being removed to a science lab. And there was blood being cleaned up—not a lot, but it was Sam's.

"We should go eat somewhere tonight," put in Jack.

"I would be most interested in seeing one of your planet's 'restaurants'," said Teal'c.

Daniel looked at them both and understood. They were warriors—they couldn't do anything other than repression. It wasn't Daniel, but he could handle it. For now. "That sounds good," he offered.

Jack looked relieved, and nodded. "O'Malley's it is."

And the rest of SG-1 went off to their other duties, feeling less like a team than they ever had.

ooooooo

Sam was surprised to wake up feeling significantly better. It couldn't just be the lessening of pain, it must be that she knew where she was going. She couldn't look further than that, and if she looked closely enough she didn't even want to go where she was going, but she knew. Things were so far gone that this was enough.

_~Well, Jol?~ _she asked in a brighter tone than she had ever used around the symbiote.

_*Jol?* _asked Jolinar in utter disbelief.

Sam felt like Colonel O'Neill, and was quite amused. _~What, are you always called Jolinar?~_

_*Yes,* _answered Jolinar.

_~Do you mind Jol?~ _asked Sam in a half-curious half-innocent tone.

There was a pause. Then, _*If I answer yes, it will only further encourage you.*_

Sam bit back a mental laugh. _~You're starting to understand, I get it. But you haven't answered.~_

_*If it signifies that you do not hate me, I do not care,* _said Jolinar.

_~I think you do, but never mind. Let's get on with it, shall we?~ _As Jolinar was still in control, she responded by standing up and moving towards the gate. Sam thought she might have sensed confusion from the symbiote, as well as a little suspicion. Well, it was her fault if she hadn't figured out that Sam could be good natured if she was confident of the outcome. Not that Sam was overly confident...but her worries could be suppressed for the moment.

Jolinar's stride across the field was slow and steady, marked by occasional stumbling as muscles gave way. Sam was definitely weaker than she was comfortable with.

_~Janet would kill me if she knew I was moving about in this condition,~ _thought Sam with a pang of regret. She already missed the sprightly female doctor, not to mention Daniel and Colonel O'Neill and Teal'c.

_*I promise you, you will return to your friends if it is at all possible with the resources of the Tok'ra,* _said Jolinar, hearing her melancholy thoughts.

The funny thing was, this time Sam was ready to believe her. Believe that she would try, anyway.

As they reached the gate, Jolinar stopped for a moment and just stared at the DHD. As Sam began to wonder, she suddenly closed her eyes, leaving Sam equally as blind. Then Sam felt Jolinar stretch out her hand and press the buttons on the DHD for an address.

_~What are you doing?~ _asked Sam, somewhat confused, though thinking she might guess the answer.

_*It will go more easily for you if you do not know our gate address,* _ said Jolinar.

Feeling a little cheated, Sam grudgingly understood the procedure.

The kawoosh burst, and Sam felt that Jolinar's emotion made her heart beat a little faster. It was very strange, her body answering the commands of two minds almost at once. Then they stepped through. The planet on the other side was a desert wasteland, empty of everything in sight.

_*Home,* _thought Jolinar in a longing whisper, to herself and not to Sam.

Sam looked around in some confusion, but at least one suspicion was gone—Jolinar had been sincere in her desire to go home.

_*Let's go—my people will have seen us and will be here shortly,* _said Jolinar, though, not allowing herself more than a moment of relief.

_~Here we go,~ _thought Sam as they stepped forward.


	6. Immersion

**Chapter 5 - Immersion**

They had not gone more than twenty feet beyond the Stargate when the sand moved about them and they were suddenly surrounded. Sam's instinct was to jump and pull out the zat, but Jolinar was in charge now, and did not even flinch.

"Who are you?" asked one of the tan-clad people.

"Jolinar of Malkshur," answered Jolinar easily. "I know who you are, Cordesh."

"You have a new host?" asked Cordesh suspiciously. "What is the password?"

Jolinar said a few words in Goa'uld that Sam did not understand, and all the weapons lowered.

"We were almost ready to think you lost to us," said Cordesh.

"And so I nearly was," said Jolinar gravely. "Rosha, I am grieved to say, did not survive."

One of the Tok'ra stepped forward, a younger man, and Sam was surprised to find that Jolinar's heart began to race.

"Come, we will grieve for lost ones in safety," he said, putting out a hand to guide Jolinar. "You are weary and wounded, I see."

"That is good counsel, Martouf," said Cordesh. "You may leave your position to bring Jolinar to the Council."

Martouf nodded to Cordesh, and then the rest of the Tok'ra stepped back. Sam didn't know what was happening, but as soon as the rings leapt from the sand, she understood. They re-materialized in crystalline tunnels, a much stranger design than that of a Goa'uld ship where rings were usually found.

But there was only a moment for Sam to take in her surroundings, for then Jolinar reached for Martouf and took him into an embrace. He responded in kind, and Sam felt sharp pangs of a grief that was not hers.

"I was not ready to lose you," murmured Martouf from above, where he held Jolinar gently.

_~Who is this?~ _asked Sam, but Jolinar didn't seem to hear.

"I was not ready to lose Rosha," Jolinar countered, and Sam was surprised at the deepness of emotion. She had pegged Jolinar for one who did not open up so easily.

"Have I not said that loss is but what we must expect as the consequence of the paths we choose to follow," came deeper tones, and Sam realized that Martouf's symbiote must be speaking. The dark sadness coming with that voice was unnerving in its difference.

"Lantash," murmured Jolinar, and as Sam felt a rush of emotion as if in response to another person entirely.

"But we have you safe again, and that must suffice for our joy," said Lantash then. He reached down to put a hand under Jolinar's chin, turning her face up to his, where another emotion began to cover up the sadness.

Jolinar's heartbeat and emotions began to flow in a way that Sam recognized all too well, and suddenly Martouf and Lantash's behavior was no longer confusing. It was even less so as Lantash planted a tender kiss on Jolinar's forehead, before stooping in preparation to share a much more passionate one.

_~Whoa, whoa, wait!~ _called Sam nervously from the back of her mind, hoping to break through Jolinar's haze of love and—lust? _~Hey!~_

Thankfully, her calls were jarring enough, and before anything happened, Jolinar raised a finger to place on Lantash's lips. "Wait, my love," she said, just a bit breathless from expectation. "This host—I am not fully blended yet."

"Of course," said Lantash, pulling back to a less intimate distance. He dipped his head, and came up with the voice of Martouf. "I am sorry, we were imprudently forward."

"This is Samantha," said Jolinar. "She was not aware of our relationship—it is making her very uncomfortable at the moment." Her tone was apologetic, but inwardly, Sam could see that she found Sam's discomfort just a bit amusing.

Jolinar dipped her own head, and then granted Sam control. Unsure of what she was to do, Sam first involuntarily blushed, finding herself in the arms of a man who she did not really know, but who considered himself involved with her, or at least her symbiote.

"Ah, um," she started, "hello?" She felt out of place and unprepared—and her frustration at Jolinar was resurfacing. She couldn't have at least mentioned that she had a boyfriend? Or was it two?

"Greetings, Samantha," said Martouf, smiling gently. At least he appeared understanding of her, unlike Jolinar, who was observing with an imaginary half smirk. "I am Martouf, as you are probably aware now, and my symbiote is Lantash. I am sorry that we and Jolinar surprised you—Tok'ra change hosts over time, but we forget that the new host needs time to adjust to their new life. Fear not, we will not do anything without your permission in the future."

"Thank you," said Sam gratefully. "But—it's all right, I'm not going to be here long." She gave a weak smile, but Martouf didn't respond.

He looked confused. "What do you mean?"

"I'm only a temporary host—I didn't choose this," Sam tried to explain.

"But what is this? You have not chosen to be Tok'ra, yet you are?"

"It—well, it was an emergency, and Jolinar was in need, but I wasn't awake for her to ask..." Sam trailed off uncomfortably.

_~Jolinar, help please?~_ she begged.

Jolinar seemed to take pity, and took control again. "It is true, my love," she said.

"I do not understand this," said Martouf, brow deeply furrowed. "You took this Samantha without her permission?"

"As she said, she could not have granted it," said Jolinar. "My own host was moments from death, and she was unconscious and nearing death herself—I made a call of judgment to save us both."

"This is not what I would have expected," said Martouf frowning. "And Samantha, she agreed when she awoke?"

"No," said Jolinar slowly, a little guiltily. Inside, Sam was glad to feel her squirm a little; it was one comfort in the overwhelming situation.

Martouf frowned, then nodded to let Lantash take over. "Jolinar, you broke our highest law," he said sternly.

"My love, you would have let two lives die on a matter of principle?" asked Jolinar.

"Yes," said Lantash solidly. "Martouf is ready to grant that the situation can only be understood by one who experiences it, but I hold that law above my own life."

"I understand, and that is why it is temporary," said Jolinar. "I swear, I would that I never had to make such a choice again."

Lantash sighed. "If Samantha forgives you, so shall I, my love. But the Council will not see it so, I think."

"Then let Samantha make the final call," said Jolinar firmly. "I am in her debt looking at it from any way." Then, unexpectedly, Jolinar's knees buckled, and only Martouf and Lantash's embrace kept her from stumbling.

"Apologies, my love," said Lantash, suddenly becoming gentle and caring. "You are very weak still—let me get you to medical help."

Jolinar sighed, but let him support her as they began to go down the tunnel. She gave control back to Sam, but Sam didn't know what to say. For some time, Lantash's face was dark, strong emotion plainly beneath but not surfacing. Then he shook his head slightly, as if putting on another mask, one that pushed grief aside for the time being.

"May I speak to Samantha?" asked Lantash after a moment.

"I'm here," said Sam. "And—no one I know calls me Samantha." She flushed a little at the bluntness of the last bit. "I'm usually called Carter."

"Carter," said Lantash, musing. "Is that a title, or a rank?"

"Well, neither," said Sam, glad that he was keeping the conversation going. "It's my last name—family name?" she added, after Lantash still looked puzzled.

"Your planet gives two names to its children, then," said Lantash. "Martouf is fascinated, but I do not understand."

"Well, the last name is for business and for strangers," said Sam, a bit uncomfortably. "And normally family and close friends would call me Samantha, but I prefer Sam."

"Three names?" asked Lantash, eyebrows raised.

"No, Sam is just short for Samantha," said Sam. At his look, she gave a tiny smile. "Yeah, I guess it is weird. Jolinar reacted the same way when I wanted to call her Jol."

"Jol?" burst out Lantash, greatly surprised, but not disapproving.

"Sorry," said Sam, flushing even more.

"There is no need," said Lantash. "It is just that you are strange, Samantha, and unfamiliar. Carter."

"Yeah, well, all this is weird to me too," confessed Sam.

"I assume you are glad not to have to face it for a lifetime," said Lantash pointedly, looking her in the face. Sam didn't say anything, but the look on her face made Lantash follow up his statement. "You know, of course, that Jolinar's promises will be granted by the Council—especially given the situation of your blending."

"I'm—glad to know that," said Sam. Was she surprised or not at such a statement?

They fell silent, and though Sam could not distinguish between the corridors, eventually they turned into a large room. An olive-skinned man and a golden-haired woman, both in the tan uniforms of the Tok'ra, were arguing over a table that looked like it could have been at home in Sam's lab.

"Lantash," commented the woman, catching sight of him first. "What is this?"

"Larys, Anise, this is Jolinar returned to us," he answered. "She has come greatly weakened from her mission."

"Rosha was lost?" asked Larys, coming forward to help Sam to sit on the bench, his hands very gentle on her back and shoulder.

Lantash gave a short nod, his eyes pained.

"She will be mourned," said Anise, bowing her head.

"May I ask your name?" asked Larys, stooping to look Sam in the face.

"Carter," said Sam. "Sam Carter—but I go by Carter usually."

Larys put his hands on either side of her face, looking intently at her head and in her eyes. "Jolinar appears to have done well, I see no grave injuries," he said. "But you need much care—Anise, I am afraid that I will have to continue our conversation later."

"Of course," said Anise, nodding and departing.

Larys helped Sam out of the BDU jacket to examine her. He was very careful, letting his fingers run over every area that appeared damaged, but not pressing hard enough to cause agony. Still, Sam's muscles clenched as he ran over the various burns, and especially over the newer gunshot wounds. After a moment, he nodded to himself.

"Here, you should lie down," said Larys, indicating a soft pillow on the bench that Sam sat on.

Sam lay back gently, breathing out with relief to be at ease. Lantash sat by her feet, resting a hand on her leg. It was a bit uncomfortable, but Sam didn't want to offend him by pointing this out.

Larys came back with three things in his hand. "Here, drink this, it will give you and Jolinar strength," he said, handing her a small vial. She sat up a little to drink it, then lay back down. "And this, just for surety," commented Larys as he gave her an injection. Then he held up the final object, which Sam recognized as the healing device that Kendra had once used. "I won't be able to heal you completely, of course," he said. "You must tell Jolinar that she should take rest for a couple days at least, however much she does not wish to."

"Yeah, I don't think she'll argue," said Sam, trying to relax as he held the device over her chest. It began to glow, and then she felt the energy flow through her. It was like Jolinar's inward healing, only more distinct and faster. She breathed out, feeling the pain slowly dissipate, and closed her eyes.

_*I had forgotten how good this feels compared to what I have had to do,*_ said Jolinar, suddenly breaking her silence.

_~Why, how long since your last mission ended?~ _asked Sam curiously.

_*Nine and a half months,* _said Jolinar with an inward sigh.

_~What?~ _exclaimed Sam. _~You haven't seen your friends, your boyfriend, in almost a year?~_

_*The mission was important,* _said Jolinar, but she didn't try to hide that it had been hard on her. _*And Lantash and Martouf are my mate.*_

_~Oh,~ _said Sam, a little surprised. _~So you're married, and you're gone for that long?~_

_*We do not live for our own pleasure,* _said Jolinar. Then she added: _*But yes, I have been impatient and anxious to return to him.*_

_~Sorry I messed that up,~ _said Sam.

_*The fault did not rest on your shoulders,* _said Jolinar.

Sam had been thinking much the same thing, but she appreciated that Jolinar was the one to say it. _~He's nice; I'm sure you're very happy,~_ she said, to mollify the mood a bit.

Jolinar said nothing, but the sudden flash of images that poured into Sam's mind were so passionate and—well, intimate—that she would have blushed furiously.

_~Okay, okay, I don't need to know all that,~ _she said hurriedly, trying not to look, which was difficult when the memories were being shared directly.

Jolinar pulled back a little.

_~I'm _very_ glad you haven't blended fully if that's what you think about,~ _commented Sam earnestly.

Jolinar chuckled. The healing device continued to spread comfort throughout their body, prompting warmer feelings of relief and gratitude.

_~Hey,~ _ wondered Sam, _~before, you were desperate to get back here. Did you miss it so much?~_

_*No,* _said Jolinar. _*Or rather, that did not prompt my urgency. I have tidings that must be heard, and will be, when I report to the Council. But my time at your SGC let me think on everything, and it is not as life or death as I originally thought.*_

_~Why does it have to be secret?~ _asked Sam. _~I mean, it's not like--~_

_*Samantha, it is of grave importance that this news come out at the Council first. Let it rest.*_

"Well," spoke Larys finally, "I have done all I can." Sam opened her eyes, and Larys helped her to sit up. "I do not know what Jolinar has told you, but our healing devices can only function if we know what we are healing. I have healed your external injuries, and the tissue wounds that were from some weapon that I am unfamiliar with—but we will have to do a scan to look for internal injuries."

Jolinar took control for a moment. "They are but few, Larys, there will be no need for extra interference."

"Ah, my independent Jolinar," said Larys, smiling. "Considering your state, I will let you have your way here, as reward for returning safely to us."

"I will report to the Council, then I will rest as much as you wish," said Jolinar, standing up.

Lantash rose as well, ready to accompany her.

"Lantash, my love," said Jolinar. "I wish to let Samantha become accustomed to us gradually, which may be difficult if you follow me around like a lost puppy." Her lighter tone surprised Sam.

Lantash nodded, but a gleam in his eye belied his humble acquiescence. "Of course. I shall see you at the Council."

_~You didn't need to do that, I didn't mind him that much,~ _said Sam as Jolinar led her out the corridor.

_*My love is caring and protective, but I must rebuke him so that he does not become clingy,* _explained Jolinar, but fondly.

_~What about Martouf? Is he the same?~ _asked Sam curiously.

_*No, not exactly,* _said Jolinar as if with a frown. _*They are as one to me, but yes, it is not always the same. Martouf is more—sensitive to the wishes of others. He was also once unblended, so he understands your concept of privacy. Lantash is more stubborn, and does not willingly back off from what he desires.*_

_~Ah,~ _said Sam, feeling enlightened and even more confused.

Jolinar sighed. Then she added, _*I need to bathe.*_

Sam was surprised at this, and even more so at her own intrigue. Well, things were going well so far, and Jolinar was telling the truth after all. Strangely, that should have surprised Sam from the first moment they asked about the host, but it had not. She hadn't even noticed—how long had she believed it anyway? Was she growing soft? Who knew what moment finalized her opinion, an opinion that had gone through ups and downs, but steadily rising in trust of the symbiote since she had allowed Sam to speak in the infirmary.

Oh, what did it matter, what or when or how her mind had changed? Jolinar was right—they urgently needed a bath.

ooooooo

"Sir?"

Hammond looked up from his desk to where Jack O'Neill stood fidgeting. "Yes, Colonel, I called you. Come in and take a seat."

"I'd rather stand, sir," said Jack, his mouth twisting a little.

"It doesn't matter to me," said Hammond. Resting his elbows on his desk, he leaned forward. "I know it's only been a day, but I've sent referrals for prospective new team members to your office."

"I have an office?" Jack stalled.

Hammond gave him a look, and Jack sighed. "Before you see them, we need to discuss exactly what you're choosing."

"A replacement for Carter—I know, it's going to be a hell of a choice," said Jack.

"No, Jack, not a replacement," said Hammond.

Jack looked up. "Oh? We calling it something different now?"

"I've reported to my superiors on what happened yesterday," said Hammond. "And the things they've been saying have given me serious thought. You know why Carter joined you on the first mission, right?"

"She deserved it, after creating the computer dialing system," said Jack.

"No, Jack." Hammond sighed. "Jack, Carter was a dream come true for a man in my position. She knew the Stargate, knew a hell of a lot more, and was a fine military officer as well. I know it was just supposed to be recon, but if anything went wrong, I wanted you to have someone with a mind that could work with whatever you might have."

"It was a good choice, sir," said Jack, flicking darkly at a few pencil shavings on Hammond's desk.

"So I thought," said Hammond. "But now I'm being criticized for letting such a valuable resource waste her time in field work instead of research and development."

"We wouldn't have survived this long without Carter," Jack protested.

"I know that," said Hammond. "But that's not my point. I didn't call you here to explain the political issues I'm having to deal with, I'm here to remind you that you're not going to find another Carter. She was a scientist and a soldier, and they don't come more than once in a million. You're going to have to think about that when you review the files."

"I don't think that's going to help," said Jack.

"I'd advise you to choose a scientist, given your past record," said Hammond. "But the choice will be yours of course—and I'm not pretending it's going to be easy."

"With all due respect, sir, it's impossible," said Jack. "I need a soldier."

"You have Teal'c, Jack," said Hammond. "SG-1 is not a military team, 50 is a perfectly adequate percentage."

"No, it's not," pushed Jack. "Teal'c isn't US military—he doesn't fight with our tactics, and I can't really give him commands. And Daniel's hopeless. I need someone I can count on in a fight to do what I say."

"Even more you need someone who can save you from the alien devices that you and Dr. Jackson have a habit of interfering with," said Hammond with a pointed look.

Jack threw up his hands. "Right! Because science is going to do us so much good when we can't get away from the Jaffa or dangerous natives!"

"Jack," said Hammond.

"I'll think about it, okay?" said Jack. "But I don't see why we can't have five people on the team," he added, muttering.

Hammond did not respond, and Jack sighed and rose to leave.

"Good luck, Jack," said Hammond.

Jack gave him a withering glance, covering up the pain that was carving new wrinkles beneath his eyes.

ooooooo

The bath had been a mixture of pleasure and discomfort, communally located and apparently well-trafficked, but warm and full of soothing mineral salts. Just having clean hair made everything deserving of a second chance. The new clothing afterward had been a little less pleasure and a little more awkwardness, a long well-fitted soft leather robe that wrapped kimono style, but without sleeves or a proper military neckline. Looking in the mirror, Sam saw Jolinar hold herself up tall and proud, and knew she had never looked better—but also never less military.

However, none of these were like the discomfort of a Tok'ra briefing. She was finally hearing what Jolinar had been doing, and it shed no light on anything. Meaningless shifts in the power structure of the minor Goa'ulds under Apophis, tactics that were being trained to his Jaffa, plans for how he was to wipe out other systems lords—it didn't mean anything to Sam.

It was curious to note the disapproval as Jolinar related what had happened with Sam, and Jolinar even brought Sam forward to testify that there was no foul intent. Then, before they had even seemed to digest that strange story:

"Why _did_ you leave your post after two months?" came a question from Garshaw, who was leading the near-interrogation.

Sam perked up, finally hearing a question that she was curious about

Jolinar paused. "You are aware of Apophis' bold tactics in taking on other System Lords, and even going up against the newly discovered Tauri, but you have not guessed one portion of his dark mind. While I was in his court, I noticed that his queen Amonet departed without pomp, and did not return."

Sam was _very_ intrigued.

"I searched harder than I ever had before, and discovered that Apophis has created a harcesis." The words fell like strikes upon a gong, and after a moment of silence, the Council chamber erupted.

"What is this villainy!" demanded Per'sus.

"Surely you were mistaken," said Garshaw.

"Even he would not dare such an undertaking," added Cordesh.

_~What is a harcesis?~ _asked Sam curiously.

"You think there is another solution?" asked Jolinar. "You would be blind fools to think so. I left immediately to bring you the news, but my sudden absence was noticed. The ashrak trailed me for nearly six months before I joined with Samantha Carter. The harcesis will be born soon."

"Why were we not informed the moment you stepped through the gate?" demanded Garshaw.

"Apophis has kept this secret close to him; operatives must be sent before anything is learned, and as that takes time, a few hours of peace was worth it," said Jolinar boldly.

The Council members all looked to each other, assessing what they had just heard without words, and perhaps even with their silent symbiotes and hosts.

Finally, Garshaw looked back. "Thank you, Jolinar, this is most useful. We must decide our course of action soon, for there are complications that need to be discussed. However, since you have given us all you know, you may take your rest until you are fit for another mission."

"I will require a new host in the future," said Jolinar.

"A new host?" asked Cordesh, eyes wide.

"I have sworn to this one that she shall be released, as she wishes," said Jolinar firmly.

"Jolinar of Malkshur, do you realize the gravity of this request?" asked Garshaw.

"I do," said Jolinar.

_~What gravity, exactly?~ _ asked Sam, confused.

_*I shall explain later,* _said Jolinar shortly.

"That is a subject for a later date," said Garshaw. "You may be dismissed."

"There is one last thing I learned in Apophis' court," said Jolinar languidly, but designedly so.

"Oh?" asked Garshaw, who was already turning to consult with the Council.

"Merely that Cordesh has been in contact with Apophis," said Jolinar.

"What!" cried Cordesh, standing up and slamming his hands on the desk. "This is slander!"

"I heard his name often," said Jolinar darkly, staring down the Council member she had accused. "And in tones too distinct to be mistaken."

"Cordesh?" asked Garshaw, still stunned.

"It was implied that he had been communicating by means of a device," added Jolinar. "At least restrain him until his quarters are searched, and I guarantee, you will find it."

"Such a thing has never happened among the Tok'ra," said Garshaw darkly. "Cordesh, have you no defense?"

Cordesh looked grave, but did not deny anything.

Jolinar smirked, then turned to leave.

_~Whoa, what did you just do?~_ asked Sam, overwhelmed by what had just happened.

_*I stirred things around,* _said Jolinar. _*There will be no peace for some time among the Tok'ra.*_

_~You do this often, don't you?~ _asked Sam pointedly.

_*Someone needs to take on the reckless missions, and be prepared to address the consequences* _ said Jolinar. _*But come, we should retire so that I can answer those questions you so rudely interrupted me with.*_

_~You never told me about the telepathy etiquette,~ _said Sam defensively.

_*You have much to learn,* _said Jolinar with a long sigh.


	7. Adaptation

**Chapter 6 - Adaptation**

Sam was undergoing a whirlwind of thoughts, so speedily spinning that they were clearly in the open of the shared part of their mind, and it was driving Jolinar to distraction. But the symbiote refused to respond until they were in her quarters.

_~So we know about Sha're, but even though it's not much, I can't convey it to Daniel at all. Do you know how awful that is? And then, after all you told me about Tok'ra loyalty, you reveal a traitor. I was beginning to trust you, all of you, and now I don't think I should. Okay, so maybe you and Martouf—Lantash—how do you refer to a Tok'ra anyway—are okay on my list. For now. But what's the deal about new hosts? You were telling the truth, right? The whole truth? Or well, I don't think you've done _that_ yet, but you seemed open enough. Or is Garshaw just upset about the fact that you're going to be changing hosts again...is that a kind of taboo? How many hosts have you had?~_

_*Stop it!* _snapped Jolinar finally, as loud as an imaginary voice could get.

_~I wasn't talking to you, I was talking at you,~ _said Sam.

_*Then there is no need for excessive volume,* _hissed Jolinar, forgetting that she wasn't speaking. Then she continued walking at a faster pace down corridors that all looked the same to Sam.

It was at least a little dismissive, and Sam's curiosity dissipated. She felt little bubbles of anger start to gather in the pool of her emotions that had been stirred violently by Jolinar's debriefing. Gathering, rising, she was near a bout of frustration at her arrogant symbiote that was long in coming. Telling herself that it wasn't going to help, though, she settled back for some passive resistance.

She was evilly glad when her mental rendition of _It's A Small World_ was equally tooth-grinding to alien symbiotes as to her brother when they were young.

Finally, Jolinar turned on her heel into a small chamber. A mirror, a bed, and a chest at the foot, were all that adorned it.

_~I should have known,~ _commented Sam.

Brushing back Sam's short hair, which seemed to irritate her, Jolinar breathed out and lay down on the bed. It was surprisingly soft and supportive to Sam's back, weary from standing so long in the Council chamber, and her feet as well appreciated the rest from walking on stone floors.

As all their muscles relaxed, Jolinar laid her hands gently on her own stomach as she lay with her eyes closed. _*Are you prepared to be civil in your interrogation?*_

_~Yes,~ _said Sam, suitably calmed as a result of her cerebral terrorism.

_*Well, shall we start with the accusations of lying and manipulation?* _asked Jolinar.

_~So the Tok'ra aren't loyal for life, as you told me,~ _started Sam.

_*No. It was a generalization, I will allow, but one based in fact.*_

_~Like what?~ _asked Sam, willing for the moment to give the benefit of a doubt.

_*This cause is not one to be entered by those unsure of what they believe,* _said Jolinar. _*There is danger and hardship, and once the choice is made, it is as if there is no going back. And no, before you say anything, I believe that Cordesh was loyal before. I know not what torment or threats turned him, but he was not always so. It is rare—I know of only one other case, hundreds of years ago.*_

_~And you, how do I know you're not hiding your true nature from me?~ _asked Sam.

Jolinar snorted. _*And they consider you highly intelligent on your planet! Can you think of even the remotest possible plan that I might have that would lead me to seek actively to get rid of you?*_

_~No,~ _said Sam after a moment. She added, _~I didn't know you were so adamant about the issue as I was—it seemed like you might have wanted me to change my mind.~_

_*It would certainly be in my best interests, physically, to stay in you,* _said Jolinar. _*But mentally? Believe me, your battering of my nerves and temper is hardly what I would wish for on a permanent basis.*_

Sam couldn't help but comment. _~I have made your life living hell, haven't I? I guess I'm a little sorry about that. But about that, why is it such a big deal that you get a new host?~_

_*They are rare,* _admitted Jolinar.

_~Oh?~ _asked Sam suspiciously.

_*Humans are so individualistic,* _said Jolinar. _*Even those whose identities and wills have been suppressed for a lifetime by the Goa'uld are terrified of the prospect of sharing mind and body. Finding those who see past instinctual revulsion is a prospect of much trial and error. And because our lives depend on secrecy, trial and error is more difficult than it might be. Some seek us out, but usually we must search.*_

_~So what does that mean for me?~ _asked Sam uneasily.

_*There will be a reason for us to make many trials,* _said Jolinar simply and yet a bit cryptically. _*And don't say that I didn't tell you the whole truth, because even were there a host ready to take your place at this minute, I could not do so without dying in the process.*_

_~I know, I'm all right with being patient for a while,~ _said Sam. _~Just as long as I know it's a "when" and not an "if" situation.~_

_*I keep my word,* _repeated Jolinar.

_~What's a harcesis?~ _asked Sam, picking a question that didn't seem as emotionally charged.

_*It is the offspring of two Goa'uld, a human child who will carry the genetic memory of both predecessors,* _said Jolinar.

_~Oh,~ _said Sam, her voice full of sudden revulsion. _~You mean Apophis is forcing Sha're to bear his child?~ _She was filled with worry both for Sha're and for Daniel, if he ever found out.

_*I am sorry for you—I did not realize your relation to the host,* _said Jolinar.

_~But why is it such a problem for the Tok'ra?~ _asked Sam, burying her disgust.

_*It is not,* _said Jolinar. _*But it is forbidden among the Goa'uld. The Tok'ra merely wish to spare the child from being the object of so much hatred, and to give him a life where his knowledge will serve only good.*_

_~Poor thing,~ _said Sam. _~He won't even know his mother, no matter what happens.~_

_*She has not been a host for long, she will give him all that she can, I am sure,* _said Jolinar, surprisingly soothing.

_~What do you mean? The child could hear her thoughts?~_

_*No, the symbiote must remain dormant during the pregnancy,*_ said Jolinar. _*Your Sha're will have those months free of Amonet.*_

_~I hope you find her,~ _thought Sam.

There was a few moments of silence.

_*Have I satisfied your questioning mind?* _asked Jolinar.

_~Why do you sound like you dread it so much?~_ said Sam, a bit of accusation in her tone, but mostly a vague content.

_*I have not been used to hosts who talk so much,* _admitted Jolinar. _*I am now reminded why I prefer to be on a mission, away from—certain others here.*_

_~Well, maybe I'll be good for you~_ said Sam. _~You'd think that after a thousand years or so you'd have ironed out all those problems.~_

If Jolinar had not been resting, she would have rolled her eyes. _*You are a scientist, and yet you seem to understand little of how the mind works. It is so much easier to avoid that which annoys than to work to tolerate it.*_

_~How is it that you sound so human?~ _asked Sam. _~Are your personalities that susceptible to our minds once joined? Is it more than physical for you?~_

_*Wait,* _said Jolinar. _*Any questions you have about our nature must wait, for I cannot answer them. Tomorrow I will let others be at your mercy for how many questions you will ask, others whose fields of study will be of more use.*_

Sam sighed. _~You know, I might have liked you if you hadn't taken over my head. Well, found you interesting, anyway.~_

_*I can only imagine,* _said Jolinar dryly. _*Your panicked face as you saw the glowing eyes, and then the terror as you ran for a weapon. Would you have heard even one word if you had another choice?*_

_~Daniel would have listened,~ _said Sam, the only pseudo-apology she could offer. _~Daniel always listens. Jack hates that.~_

_*You want his approval, or else you would agree with this Daniel,* _commented Jolinar.

_~What, you don't seek the approval of your authorities?~ _defended Sam.

_*I have none,* _said Jolinar simply. _*The Council has no power over me unless I let them.*_

_~Well, lucky you,~_ said Sam. _~But no, I'm not sorry I have to be military minded. It's just—sometimes Daniel's right and the military is wrong.~_

_*No one should make their decisions based on what group they affiliate with,* _said Jolinar. _*The individual mind has ethics that are more consistent than any created version, if we are bold enough to break free and follow them.*_

_~Yeah, you really like that whole independence spiel,~ _said Sam.

When Jolinar didn't answer, Sam got the feeling, as usual, that the symbiote wasn't being open. But she was too tired to continue. It seemed like days ago that she had stepped through the gate onto this world, and weeks ago since she had slept in pain on another planet. She forced herself not to think of how long since she had left Earth—there was no point in unburying those feelings, not until there was something she could do about them.

_*I am weary as well,* _said Jolinar, sitting up on the bed. _*Shall we retire?*_

_~Yes, please,~ _said Sam. As Jolinar stood up and walked to her dresser, Sam suddenly had a moment of worry. _~Wait, is this yours and Martouf's room?~_

_*Why should it be?* _asked Jolinar. _*We are mated, not joined at the hip.*_

_~Oh, that's good,~ _said Sam with relief. _~It's just, on Earth, couples share beds.~_

_*Oh, that is not unknown to the Tok'ra,* _said Jolinar slyly. _*But not always.*_

Sam was eternally grateful that she kept the comment cryptic—given Jolinar's personality, she had no desire for an open confession of the love life of a Tok'ra. That would be a step over the line into too disturbing. She had only been here for a day, after all, and it was all new.

Jolinar brushed her fingers through Sam's hair, untangling what little tangles there were, and then washing her face in cold water. Then, indulging a small yawn, she began to strip.

_~Um, Jolinar, the door,~ _commented Sam urgently.

_*What door?* _asked Jolinar, not stopping.

Sam followed her gaze, and noticed that there was, in fact, no door. _~Whoa, whoa, you're not undressing me in public!~_

_*Certainly not,* _said Jolinar. _*We are quite alone.*_

_~But anyone could walk by,~_ explained Sam.

_*The Tok'ra are not nosy, it is just that there are no secrets,* _said Jolinar. _*Relax, no one will see us.*_

_~If they do, nothing will save your life,~ _warned Sam fiercely.

Jolinar grinned. Letting the leather robe drape over the back of the chair, she crawled into bed.

_~Must you sleep nude?~ _asked Sam, but tired enough not to care all too much.

_*Is there another way?* _asked Jolinar, confused.

_~Never mind,~ _said Sam, feeling drowsy.

Jolinar curled up under the covers, letting her healed limbs finally relax into a more natural position than how they had slept for the past nights. Sam had felt uncomfortable and confused for much of the day, but feeling a cool soft pillow under her head again seemed to bring everything together. As Jolinar slowed her breathing and heartbeat and adjusted her melatonin levels, Sam finally decided that if she kept her eyes closed, she could almost imagine herself back at home. Some things, like beds and sleep, didn't change no matter where you went or with whom, and that was of great comfort.

ooooooo

When Sam woke, she was surprised that her eyes automatically opened. Jolinar was still asleep, and apparently at some point in the night had loosened her control.

_~Strange,~ _thought Sam as quietly as she could. _~Must be a Tok'ra thing; Goa'uld would be at a disadvantage if they couldn't keep control.~_

Sitting up slowly and yawning, Sam relished the silence in her head. Not only the silence, but the lack of conscious presence. It was like a weight in the back of her mind, but she could almost ignore it. Ignore it, at least, until she noticed the crystal walls and the sharp crisp scent.

Then, suddenly, she remembered that there was no door and she had no clothes. Blushing furiously, she wrapped the blanket around her and walked over to Jolinar's makeshift closet. Frowning, she flipped through the clothes rather hopelessly. Leather, leather, silk, leather, silk, some strange fabrics she couldn't identify, silk, silk, leather. Sam hadn't noticed much fancy dress among the Tok'ra—mostly minimalist clothing, and even uniforms among many of them. But Jolinar didn't have anything simple enough, nothing the equivalent of BDUs.

Pressing her lips together, Sam finally picked a dark-colored dress that might have been made of sturdy linen, passing over the leather pantsuit just barely. The scoop neck was flattering, and the belted waist was also handy—Sam didn't know what size Rosha had been, and she didn't want to think about that issue at all. Grabbing some silky underthings, Sam retreated to the most private corner to quickly put them on.

_*Hmm,* _came a drowsy grumble from her mind.

_~Needed sleep more than you thought, eh?~_ commented Sam.

_*I'm surprised your thoughts didn't wake me,* _said Jolinar.

_~Maybe I'm getting better at hiding them,~ _said Sam.

_*Or I sleep deeply,* _answered Jolinar.

_~Yeah, because that's just what's needed for a stealth operative,~_ commented Sam incredulously.

_*What are you clothing me in?* _asked Jolinar suddenly, changing the subject abruptly.

_~What, so objectionable to you?~ _asked Sam. _~It was in your closet.~_

_*This is hardly an outfit for daily life,* _said Jolinar.

_~Oh really? I was thinking the same thing, looking at your wardrobe. You don't have anything simple!~_

_*Perhaps by your terms,* _said Jolinar. _*Will you let me finish, if you are so set on this?*_

_~Fine,~ _conceded Sam.

Jolinar quickly walked over to her mirror, readjusting minor details about how Sam had put on the dress, and opening a drawer beneath the mirror. She took out a brush to remove the tangles from Sam's hair, and then a small bottle. Pouring some sweet smelling gel into her hands, she then rubbed it through Sam's hair until it lay flat against her head.

_~Well, that's one way to do it,~ _said Sam. She wasn't fond of the almost anti-feminine allure the fiercely gelled hair gave off, but with the dress as counter-balance, it wasn't that bad.

"Now, breakfast," said Jolinar.

_~Why do you always want to be in control?~ _asked Sam.

"Do you have anything to convey to the people on this planet?" asked Jolinar. "They will assume that I am in control, because they only know me, so you will constantly be handing over control when they wish to speak to me."

_~This is just weird,~ _said Sam. _~How do you communicate with two people in one body on a regular basis without things being confused?~_

Jolinar was walking down the halls, so she thought her answers to Sam. _*There is usually a dominant consciousness, one who prefers to handle the communication, and another who does more listening.*_

_~So, Martouf likes to talk a lot?~ _asked Sam curiously.

_*Yes, and no,* _explained Jolinar. _*It is true that he communicates more often with words, but his dominant status is more due to the fact that he is Lantash's—I think you would say, editor. Lantash does not think of how his opinions will sound before he lets them loose; Martouf has seen need to stay in control to translate his meaning into more palatable terms.*_

_~Ah,~ _said Sam, smiling a little at the quirkiness of it all.

The Tok'ra mess hall was different than the one at the SGC, not surprisingly. Tables for two and three were scattered around, some pushed together for larger groups, but most clearly separate. The food was displayed on a counter cut into the crystal wall, apparently leading into the Tok'ra equivalent of the kitchen. What it lacked in variety for shape, it made up for in color. Sam didn't recognize anything as Jolinar loaded up a platter, but it smelled tolerable enough, if exotic.

_~What if I don't like it, how does that work?~ _asked Sam.

_*You will have more limited taste abilities while I am in control,* _said Jolinar. _*But I assure you, nothing here has enough taste to displease you.*_

Sam would have grinned if she could. _~Yeah, I guess mass-produced food is universally lacking.~_

Jolinar found a table well removed from the others, but whether to spare Sam from discomfort or to serve her own nearly anti-social preferences, it was not evident. She began to eat in silence, and Sam had to agree—the food had taste, but it was nothing too different from the basic tastes of home.

"May I?"

Jolinar looked up, and Martouf stood with his own platter.

"Of course," said Jolinar, smiling at him.

"How is Carter today," he asked.

_~Glad he remembered,~ _said Sam, still a bit put off by his obvious adoration of Jolinar.

"Samantha is generally content, though still strongly wishing for her return to her people," said Jolinar.

Sam noticed that Jolinar's left hand, and Martouf's right, were slowly and unconsciously drifting across the space between them to touch in the middle of the table, as their other hands helped them eat.

"I am sorry that circumstances make her so opposed to this," said Martouf. "She would do you good."

Jolinar hmphed.

"You protest, but she is strong enough to counter you, I can tell," said Martouf with a smile. "You need that, you know."

"I do not need an endlessly contrary host," protested Jolinar.

"Which she is not," said Martouf simply.

_~He's right,~ _said Sam. _~You're just testy.~_

Jolinar outwardly frowned a little, and Martouf raised an eyebrow. "I believe my point was just proved," he said.

"Let us drop this subject," said Jolinar. "Have you been busy for the Council while I was gone, or did you actually leave the base?"

"Not all of us are suited to off-world actions," said Martouf.

The barely-visible smiles on both faces gave the impression that this was a matter of long discussion and teasing, and only brought up now out of habit. Martouf continued to talk, but the names and terms were unfamiliar to Sam, and she instead watched how the two interacted—or was it three? How long had they been together? There was both the feeling of a long and comfortable relationship, but mixed with the idealism of a honeymoon stage. Whatever it was, Sam would have thought it cute and nice had she not had to be a part of it.

It was just for breakfast, though—Jolinar had promised her more answers today, and Sam was willing to wait a little while for them.

ooooooo

"General?"

Hammond looked up from his desk, where Daniel's head was poked around the corner. "Yes, Dr. Jackson?"

He popped in the room, hands stuck in his pockets, brow furrowed. "Sir, I need to ask—please, let SG-1 be a five man team!"

Hammond looked surprised, especially at the near-begging tone. "What?"

"Jack is going to kill those prospective members if you don't give him more leeway," said Daniel. "Really, no one more intimidating or with higher standards could exist!"

"Dr. Jackson, a four man team is ideal, and standard for the teams we have now," said Hammond.

"Yes, but SG-1 is a flag team, don't you want it to be the best?" argued Daniel. "Especially when the leader seems determined that it be the best or nothing at all," he added, muttering.

Hammond paused, looking at Daniel's earnest face. "I'll consider it," he said.

"Thank you, sir," said Daniel, his face lightening a little. "I really don't know if I can protect them any longer, if they don't have just the right qualities."

"Good luck," called Hammond as Daniel left.

"Yeah, we need all of it," called Daniel back.

This was difficult for Hammond. Jack was handling this all so badly, and Daniel, for all the good face he tried to portray, was hardly doing better. And it wasn't anyone else's fault—so why not make it easier on everybody? He'd contact his superiors with the suggestion, and give it all his backing.

ooooooo

Eventually the conversation faded, and the food disappeared. Martouf squeezed Jolinar's hand one last time before leaving for his duties, and Jolinar rose to clear her tray.

_~Now what?~ _asked Sam.

_*Now, you can ask your pesky questions of Selmak and Saroosh,* _said Jolinar.

_~Who are they?~ _asked Sam.

_*The oldest and wisest of the Tok'ra,* _said Jolinar. _*So if they are overwhelmed by your curiosity, you will have only yourself to blame.*_

_~Right,~ _said Sam dryly. _~For someone who never stops talking, you are remarkably intolerant of my speech.~_

_*I do not talk nonstop!* _protested Jolinar strongly.

Sam grinned inwardly. _~Gotcha.~_

_*Your humor is very strange,* _said Jolinar moodily.

_~Yeah, well, so is your culture,~ _shot back Sam, her tone light but her meaning strongly serious. _~Come on, you can go hide while I talk if you want.~_


	8. Collation

**Chapter 7 - Collation**

Jolinar led Sam down yet another corridor.

_~What's up with your architecture?~ _asked Sam. _~Do you try to make it so strangers get lost?~_

_*Wait, please, just a couple minutes, before you start off on your questions,* _Jolinar nearly begged.

Finally, they reached an open chamber that was significant for Jolinar, though it looked identical to Sam. Knocking on the side of the wall, Jolinar did not enter.

Inside was an old woman, white haired and wrinkled, with frail looking face and limbs. "Come in, dear one," came her voice, and it was normal human voice.

"Saroosh," said Jolinar, nodding. "You do not look so well today."

Saroosh walked forward with trembling steps, but with an attitude that belied her weakness. "I heard the same said of you just yesterday, child," she said, with eyebrow raised.

Jolinar stiffened a little. "I am no child, Saroosh."

"So you keep telling me," said Saroosh amusedly, patting a seat for Jolinar while she took one of her own. "But you lose your composure over so small a matter."

_~I like her,~ _Sam told Jolinar.

_*This was a bad idea,* _thought back Jolinar. Out loud, she said, taking the seat: "I have come to speak to Selmak, in fact, though you may also serve some purpose."

"What, no friendly visit?" asked Saroosh.

"No," said Jolinar, but regretfully. "You have heard of the conditions of my return?"

"That you took a host by necessity, yes," said Saroosh, with just a hint of disapproval.

"She wishes to speak to you—she is more curious about the Tok'ra than I can handle," said Jolinar.

"Oh, by all means," said Saroosh, smiling. "I would be most pleased, and so would Selmak."

Jolinar bowed her head and gave Sam control. Glad to have the power back, Sam looked up and smiled at Saroosh. "Hi," she said, not nearly uncomfortable after witnessing how Saroosh interacted. "My name is Samantha Carter."

"It is a pleasure," said Saroosh, offering her hand, small and wrinkled as it was. "I am Saroosh, host to Selmak. Has Jolinar told you that we are the oldest and wisest among the Tok'ra?"

"Uh, yes, she did," said Sam, smiling unsurely and gently taking the proffered hand.

Saroosh smiled wider. "Oh yes, I thought she might have—she is such a fiery one, our Jolinar, and does not hold reverence for anyone, least of all us. So," she continued, "you have questions?"

"On my home planet, before all this, I was a scientist," said Sam, explaining. "I—it was my job to ask questions."

"And you pestered Jolinar with them?" asked Saroosh.

"Well—" Sam started to admit.

"Oh, no need to justify!" said Saroosh. "I am glad that you ruffled her feathers, she deserves it."

"Well, considering my situation, I didn't want to make her upset," said Sam, shrugging.

"Mm, so I heard," said Saroosh, sobering up. "It is true that you do not see this as a fortuitous accident, then?"

"Oh, no," Sam blurted out, surprised. "That is," she added, trying to make it sound less harsh, "it's not that I hate her or anything—I just didn't choose it, and I don't want it."

"You did hate her, didn't you?" asked Saroosh, looking at her closely.

"Yes," said Sam slowly. "She stole my body, threw a wrench in my perfect life, and what have I got for it?"

"Very true, very true," said Saroosh more lightly. "I do not judge—you have every right to think as you do. It is just, we do not see this often, objections to being a host of a Tok'ra. You are an anomaly."

"You're happy with your life?" asked Sam, curiously.

"Should I not be?" asked Saroosh back. "I have had good health, a long life, and a constant friend and companion—not to mention the wisdom and knowledge that I should never have gained on my own."

"But your family," continued Sam, "your life before?"

Saroosh sighed. "Yes, they are all dead and gone, and their children, and their children afterwards."

"You don't miss it?" asked Sam.

"With this life, my dear, you don't miss anything," said Saroosh. "Every day brings another crisis, or if not, another project and plan needing our help. Even when that is done, there is talk and company. We are a family, in more ways than one, and one that has lasted longer than any family I would have known on my home-world." Saroosh let out her breath in a happy sigh. "But, I should be answering your questions," she said.

"Well, that was one of them," said Sam. "But—how does this whole symbiotic thing work, anyway? I mean, physically."

"Well, there is one who knows more about that than I," said Saroosh. "Just a second." She dipped her head, and Sam knew what was coming next.

"Hello again," she said, as Saroosh's face changed infinitesimally.

"Greetings, Samantha Carter," came the deeper voice. "I am Selmak. And as to your question, it is a difficult thing to describe."

"Try me," said Sam with a smile.

"Our kind are small, with a bone structure like that of snakes," began Selmak. "We consist of few organs, so we require a host to fulfill the rest. By entering through the mouth, or the back of the neck, we are able to link directly with the spinal cord and the host's mind."

Sam gritted her teeth, willing herself not to flinch as the process was described.

"We secrete a chemical upon entering," continued Selmak. "You might call it a neurotransmitter, though it serves a more complex purpose. It passes along the neurons to the brain, and it provides the link between the two consciousnesses, transferring memories and thoughts as patterns from one mind to the other. It is impossible to describe in such laymen's terms, but that is the general idea."

"Okay, I guess that makes sense," said Sam. "What about these tendril things that I've heard about?"

"Once in the mind, we immediately have some blending, through the chemical," said Selmak. "But full blending requires much more of the chemical than we can instantly secrete. At our will, and after some time, we grow limb-like structures that branch out and deepen the blending, until all things are shared. It sounds physically invasive," added Selmak at the sight of Sam's discomfort, "but all blending is a chemical reaction. If a symbiote were to die within the host without being fully blended, the chemical secreted upon its death would transfer all the final thoughts to the host, though admittedly at random and without order or purpose."

"Okay," said Sam, nodding and swallowing a little nervously. "So when Jolinar leaves, there won't be anything residual?"

"No, that is another matter entirely," said Selmak. "Symbiotes carry naquadah with them, and it becomes a part of the host permanently. Even when unblended, that naquadah will follow you forever. But it should not affect your life in any way—it serves to detect other symbiotes, and to activate Goa'uld and Tok'ra technology."

"I can live with that," said Sam with a little shrug. "Sounds useful, actually."

"If you were to host Jolinar for many years," added Selmak, "there would also be the issue of your aging."

"What do you mean?" asked Sam, interested.

"The presence of a symbiote can slow the aging of cells," said Selmak, "but only on a temporary basis. Like the sarcophagus, continual treatment is required. Without the symbiote, you would regress dramatically without treatment. But for you, as I said, this is not an issue."

Sam frowned, thinking. "I'm just wondering, from what you've told me—do you remove the Goa'uld from their hosts?"

Selmak sighed and sat up straighter. "It is a difficult question, Samantha Carter."

"Why, what's the matter?" asked Sam.

"Firstly, a symbiote can kill its host if it wishes," said Selmak, "though it is only likely to do so if there is no possible hope of escape. They are not self-sacrificing. The Tok'ra can sometimes subdue the symbiote before this happens, and with surgery, it may be removed with little or no damage to the host. But it is dangerous for many reasons. The symbiote may not come easily, and if it does, the regression may not always be helped. Even then, the psychological damage is not within our power to heal."

"Yeah, I understand that," said Sam, but her face was pained.

"Is this of importance to you?" asked Selmak.

"I—" Sam began hesitantly. "I—I knew the host of the Goa'uld Amonet," she said. "She was the wife of my friend before she was taken. He, well we, have been trying to find a way to get her back."

"She is the mother of the harcesis?" asked Selmak.

Sam flinched. "She's being forced to do it, yes," she said. "Her name is Sha're."

Selmak sighed. "I do not know if we will be able to find her, and if so, if the host can be saved. Such circumstances have been rare, and not always successful."

"But you would try?" asked Sam. "You try not to kill Goa'uld if there's any chance?"

"Samantha Carter," said Selmak, leaning over to put a hand on her knee. "If it was in our power to destroy an evil being, then the choice is between saving potentially thousands by the Goa'uld's death, or risking those lives in an attempt to save one that may not be in reach of salvation. What choice do you think we would make?"

Sam bit her lip, not looking into Selmak's eyes. "I don't want to have to make that choice," she said, but the pain in her voice was great.

"No one does," said Selmak. "But someone must."

"I don't get it," said Sam, branching out from her discomfort. "You care about lives, you care about freedom—why don't the Goa'uld? Why are they all so evil?"

"If you bore the memory of all your ancestors, all their despicable deeds and desires, could you resist it without reason to? From the time they are born, the Goa'uld have all odds against them."

"And the Tok'ra?" asked Sam.

"Our genetic memory comes from our foremother, Egeria. She was once of the Goa'uld—but she chose another path, and granted that memory to her many children." Selmak spoke now with respect in her voice. "Rarely, the memories do not subdue the free will of the symbiote and they can grow beyond them."

"Is that what happened to Cordesh, only the opposite way?" asked Sam.

"We shall not know for sure, but it is not a flawed guess," said Selmak with a dark tone. "Genetics do not hold all the answers."

Sam fell silent, looking down at her hands, and wondering how much of her behavior could be explained by her father. Too much, she thought with discomfort.

_*So do all children think,* _said Jolinar quietly.

"Are these all your questions?" asked Selmak, surprised.

"No, not all," said Sam. "But—you gave me enough thought for now. I need to absorb. Thanks," she said.

"May I speak with our Jolinar, if you are done?" asked Selmak.

"Sure," said Sam, retreating as much as she could. Jolinar took over, and Sam ducked back to think and brood in silence.

"The whole base is murmuring about your revelations," said Selmak to Jolinar, sitting up in her chair to address the other symbiote.

"I knew they would," said Jolinar.

"If the Goa'uld feel free in their power to attempt such a venture, it shows how gravely we have failed," Selmak continued.

"Yes, well, what was to be expected?" said Jolinar shortly.

"You do not wish to speak of it?" asked Selmak, but without much surprise.

"I've done all the talking on the issue that I wish," said Jolinar. "Now is a time for actions, not words."

"So you have always told us," said Selmak, the hint of a dark grin on her mouth. "But it is words and ideas that have saved us, and actions but the results that follow from them."

"I save my words for when they are needed," said Jolinar. "I do not repeat myself—until there is reason to speak of Apophis and the harcesis again, I shall not bother in meaningless speculations."

"As you wish," said Selmak, settling back into her chair. "I am not surprised."

"Yes, you pester me even knowing my response," said Jolinar pointedly.

"Perhaps one day you will learn and I will not need to be so blunt," said Selmak. She smiled, even as her hands began to tremble.

"Have you eaten this morning?" asked Jolinar.

"Yes, I have," said Selmak. Then, she added, "And no, that did not distract me from the subject. I am not yet senile, Jolinar."

Jolinar sighed, and did not even try to look innocent.

"It is Amonet, is it not?" Selmak continued.

"Yes," said Jolinar simply.

"Is she not symbiote to the friend of your own host, Samantha?" asked Selmak.

"No, Samantha has only met her once—Sha're was but mated to a friend of Samantha's," corrected Jolinar.

"Such ill fortune for such a coincidence," said Selmak.

_~What exactly does she mean?~_ asked Sam out of curiosity.

_*When Amonet is silenced for the pregnancy, her host has control,* _explained Jolinar, not in the mood to give control up just for Selmak to answer. _*She will likely go to a place of meaning to her, so the more we know of the host, the more we can guess where she will go to birth the harcesis.*_

_~Really?~ _asked Sam, suddenly intrigued. _~That's it? That's all you need?~_

_*What is this?* _asked Jolinar, frowning.

_~You didn't tell me you needed that kind of information,~ _said Sam.

_*But you know scarce more than nothing about her, so you implied,* _said Jolinar.

Sam was growing even more excited and hopeful. _~Oh Daniel, you will thank us yet, I promise! Jolinar, I know one very important thing about Sha're—I know her home-world.~_

Selmak was watching as Jolinar's face reflected her emotions. "What is it?" she asked.

"Answers, the answers we needed," said Jolinar without introduction. She rose in haste.

"Jolinar, what is it?" asked Selmak, too frail to stand up so unexpectedly.

"I underestimated Samantha," said Jolinar, turning to leave. She called back over her shoulder, "She knows the home-world of Amonet's host!"

_~So what does this mean?~ _asked Sam, as they hurried down the hallway towards the Council chamber.

_*It means we may have a chance of finding Amonet,* _said Jolinar. _*And that is of great importance to us all.*_

_~But what then?~ _asked Sam.

_*Wait and see—I have not answers for such questions,* _said Jolinar.

ooooooo

"Where have you been?" asked Jack, hands on hips as Daniel came back to him.

"Sorry, I was just talking to General Hammond again," said Daniel.

"Sure you were," said Jack. "Just admit it—you hate this as much as I do." He waved a hand in the general vicinity of the various personnel files.

"Yes, Jack, I do," said Daniel testily. "But only because you're making it so difficult!"

"Am not," protested Jack with a frown.

"Right, because of course you're giving everyone unbiased consideration," Daniel muttered, sitting down with a thwump and snatching a few files to look at.

"It's not my fault and you know it," said Jack. "I have high standards, who wouldn't?"

"So lower them," said Daniel.

"It's not that easy," muttered Jack. "Don't try to pretend that you have, either."

"If this isn't about the new team members, don't try to pretend that it is," said Daniel. "This is about Sam, isn't it? You don't want to give up on her."

"You didn't either," shot back Jack. "You were mad as hell with me when I agreed with Hammond!"

"Okay, yes, I was upset," said Daniel, throwing his hands up. "But I got over it, Jack, I didn't hold a grudge about it."

"There's no grudge!" protested Jack. "I just—" He stopped, trailed off, and turned back in frustration to the paperwork.

"I know," said Daniel, his irritation dying and turning to attempts at understanding. "If I think too hard on it, I think I might just fall apart, so I don't."

"That's not healthy, you know," Jack tossed at him flippantly.

"Right," said Daniel wearily. He put down the file he was holding, removed his glasses, and rubbed his eyes.

"Tiring, isn't it?" said Jack.

"Yeah, sure," said Daniel, accepting the offered excuse. "Why doesn't Teal'c help?"

"He can't read these," said Jack, shaking his head at Daniel's ignorance. "Hell, I'm not sure I can read all of these terms, and I went to public school!"

"What is he doing, then?" asked Daniel. "Doesn't he feel welcome to join us?"

"You know, Daniel, I haven't really spent time psychoanalyzing the guy," said Jack. "He probably just wants to be alone. I know I wouldn't mind it."

"Fine, I'll shut up," said Daniel, picking up the file again.

"I didn't mean that," said Jack from behind his file.

"Yes, you did," answered Daniel without looking at him.

"No, not really," said Jack again.

"Yes, you did," pushed Daniel.

"Okay, yes I did," said Jack. "And now I really mean it."

There was a moment of silence, and both men seemed to sigh a little. It felt good to argue, felt normal, even when nothing else did.

"How about this Mckay guy," offered Daniel after a moment. "Have you seen his credentials?"

"The only part I cared about was that he'd never been on any kind of team before," said Jack.

"Neither had I," reminded Daniel.

"Archaeologists are more active than physi-whatever he is," said Jack.

"He'd learn," said Daniel. "You can't help it, being on the team."

"No offense, Daniel, but I don't want to have to go through another one of you," said Jack, throwing a glance his way.

Daniel sighed, and then the phone rang, and they both jumped.

"I got it," said Daniel.

"Why you?" asked Jack.

"Well, we're in my lab, since you don't seem to know where your office is," said Daniel, grabbing the phone.

"_Dr. Jackson?"_

"Yes, sir?" answered Daniel.

"_You can tell Colonel O'Neill that a five-man team has been approved by the President. He can pick his members, and we'll let them know so they'll be ready by the time you go back on duty."_

"Thank you, sir," said Daniel earnestly, gratefully. "This is—this is very good."

"_They all understood what you must be going through—and as the flagship team, they agreed that more variety is better."_

Hammond hung up the phone, and Daniel put his back on the hook.

"Well, what was that?" asked Jack curiously.

"General Hammond," said Daniel. "He says I should tell you that the guys at the Pentagon have approved a five-man team for SG-1."

"What?" asked Jack in surprise. "Really?"

"Yeah—I kind of went in and vouched for it this morning," said Daniel. "You know what that means, right?"

"What?" asked Jack suspiciously.

"That we get to compromise," said Daniel simply. "You choose the military guy, I choose the science guy."

"Or girl," corrected Jack, but quickly realizing that that was the wrong thing to say.

"Yeah," said Daniel sadly. "We'll see."


	9. Preparation

**Chapter 8 - Preparation**

_~I don't get this,~ _grumbled Sam. _~You have what you need, why all this talk of logistics and resources?~_

_*At last we agree on something,* _said Jolinar dryly. _*Beaurocracy!*_

_~This is good for everyone, though,~ _said Sam, hope finally mingling with the contentment she forced upon herself. _~You get Amonet, keep the harcesis from Apophis. And you can give me Sha're so that she can go back to Daniel—and maybe they will listen to her when she dials Earth.~_

_*You may have a chance to go home,* _Jolinar summed up. _*Yes, yes, it's all very exciting to you, but if you are truly as intelligent as you say, you will realize all the variables.*_

_~She may not have gone to Abydos, Amonet may kill to avoid capture, she may not be removed safely, the Abydonians may not let Sha're contact Earth even after Amonet is removed...no wait, there's another one. Daniel said he would contact Abydos, not the other way around, which is not for many more weeks.~_

_*And we have yet to find a new host,* _added Jolinar.

_~Oh yes, won't that be fun,~ _intoned Sam.

"Jolinar of Malkshur," came Garshaw's voice finally.

Jolinar looked up—they were done deliberating, so it seemed.

"If your previous information was correct, the harcesis shall not be born for many more weeks," said Garshaw.

Jolinar nodded as Garshaw paused, resting her hands on the platform before her. "Yes?"

"Since the situation is therefore not immediately urgent, we shall wait until an operative returns from a mission to send them out again on this one," said Garshaw, nodding her head to indicate that the conversation was over.

There was a second as both Jolinar and Sam were in shock.

"This is a most foolish decision," said Jolinar.

_~Hey, insulting the people in charge is not so good,~ _commented Sam.

"What if another Goa'uld is aware of Apophis' plan?" demanded Jolinar. "Or what if Apophis forgoes secrecy for the final days in favor of safety, and surrounds the planet with his entire fleet? As far as we know, now is the best and only time to accomplish this!"

"We are stretched thin, Jolinar," said Garshaw patiently. "The only Tok'ra on this base are personnel unsuited to missions, especially one such requiring such success."

"Let me go," said Jolinar.

"It was our understanding that your host was unwilling to serve the cause of the Tok'ra," said Garshaw, frowning.

_~This is different,_~ said Sam, encouraging Jolinar. _~This is for a friend—well, and for me a little, too.~_

"She is full willing to take on this venture," said Jolinar. "It is of grave importance for more than meets the eyes of the Tok'ra."

"Let me speak with Samantha," commanded Garshaw.

"Yes?" asked Sam when she was able to surface.

"Do you understand that by agreeing to this mission, you are in effect declaring yourself a Tok'ra operative to the Goa'uld?" said Garshaw, her face grave with thought.

"It's not like the Goa'uld didn't know who I was already," said Sam. "We did blow up two motherships."

Garshaw's eyebrow rose, but she nodded her head in acknowledgment of the fact. "Still, suspected Tok'ra will be more harshly dealt with than Tauri, however troublesome. And that is only if you survive, if Jolinar's intuitions are correct and there are neither Jaffa nor ships in wait on Abydos."

"I understand, really," said Sam earnestly. "On Earth our highest goal is the defeat of the Goa'uld—it's just," she stumbled a little, "well, this wasn't the way we had in mind."

"Understood," said Garshaw, bowing her head slightly. "Know, Samantha Carter, that if you should succeed, your people will have the respect of the Tok'ra."

Sam was quite put back, as Jolinar retook control. _~Is this that dangerous?~ _she asked, suddenly a bit tentative.

_*It is full of insecurity, with many variables out of our control,*_ said Jolinar. _*We are not accustomed to taking such risks on short notice.*_

_~Ah,~_

As if to prove the point, the discussion went on for another hour, bashing out details that even the U.S. military would have brushed over for an urgent mission. Sam was grateful that Jolinar seemed cut from a slightly different cloth, and grew agitated quickly. Finally she cut it short.

"These details are impossible to fully plan before assessing the situation," Jolinar nearly snapped out. "I will give you a full report on how I dealt with them on our return, and that must suffice."

There was a moment of communion between all the council members, and then Garshaw stepped forward again as spokesperson.

"Very well, you may leave when ready."

"And may all the good fortune that has guarded the Tok'ra keep you safe on your journey," added Ren'al.

ooooooo

_~So, as I might have suspected, all this urgency?~_ Sam trailed off.

_*For naught,* _said Jolinar, making her way back to the Tok'ra mess hall. _*Some of us were not meant for this life, and find it difficult to remember how such it operates.*_

_~Oh, I know,~ _ said Sam. _~I've always been military, and I grew up thinking that it was a lot of brave men making hard choices under pressure—truth be told, I was disappointed when I realized all the paperwork that needed to be done, and then a little relieved.~_

_*A scientist? Appreciating record-keeping?*_

_~Right. You know, I can almost forget that you're the warrior-type when you agree with me,~ _said Sam. _~But really, there's a point where even nit-picking becomes counterproductive.~_

_*We could not have moved forward immediately under any circumstances,* _said Jolinar. _*We did not need to. That was the purpose of the urgency, to make sure that the inevitable was done with well before deadline.*_

_~Right, like this whole ship business,~ _said Sam._ ~You don't keep one around?~_

_*And attract the Goa'uld?* _answered Jolinar. _*We live in subterfuge and stealth—at least for the most part. Taking Goa'uld ships draws attention, destroys cover.*_

_~And yet, on this mission,~ _nudged Sam.

_*The Tok'ra are in general overcautious to the point of foolishness,* _said Jolinar breezily. _*One who is strong enough to accept the risk of capture is in no danger of betraying the rest of the Tok'ra.*_

Sam felt confident at that. _~Just out of curiosity,~ _she began, though, a little more seriously, _~what would happen if we were to be captured?~_

Jolinar paused.

_~Yeah, I know you've kind of gotten used to me, but we're allies, that's all.~_

_*Does not your culture value death over giving in to torture?* _asked Jolinar.

Sam flinched. _~We really don't expect to make that choice,~ _ she said. _~But if things get rough, we hold for rescue until the final moment.~_

_*There will be no rescue for this mission,* _said Jolinar firmly.

_~So, you just leave people behind?~ _asked Sam.

_*Collateral damage. We are few already, we cannot risk losing others in a vain hope for regaining one.*_

_~Right,~ _said Sam, deeply sobered and a little uncomfortable.

Jolinar swept into the mess hall, passing by all her fellow Tok'ra with nary a word nor a look. Taking a platter of food to the same table she always sat at, she focused all her attention on eating. Sam still found that it felt wrong to be eating with no physical effort on her part, and she tried to withdraw as much as possible to keep Jolinar's actions from distracting her.

As Jolinar's easily changeable mood had leveled out from its high, Sam realized that it had affected her as well. And that was a blow. All her life, Sam had prided herself on letting her weak moments be few and far between. After her biology and psychology courses in grad school, she had scoffed at people who made excuses for their errors by blaming their "heart" or their "feelings". As she knew, all feelings were but chemical and neural reactions working together, and if you were self-aware, you could avoid losing control of them. It was cold and scientific, but it had worked for Sam. And now, she realized that her science was poor and paltry compared to the vastness of the universe, where she could not even explain the process by which Jolinar could influence her own emotions. It was frightening and fascinating all at once, and Sam wasn't sure which reason caused her heart to beat a little faster than usual, or if even such a constant as her own heartbeat was under Jolinar's control.

_~Do Tok'ra hosts ever fully comprehend all aspects of blending?~ _she thought aloud.

_*Should I be glad that I have no idea where this thought came from?* _asked Jolinar with her mind while chewing down on a small red fruit.

Sam wondered how that was done so easily, but said, _~Well, I have been trying to be quiet. But the question?~_

_*Do humans ever fully understand their own existence?* _asked Jolinar back. _*Can you feel your body and know how to move every muscle? Which bones move which way, which tendons and ligaments are required? Where the source of each little pain comes from? Where the food you ate an hour ago is exactly in the digestive system? How many areas of your mind are activated with a single thought?*_

_~No,~ _said Sam. _~Much of that, yes, but not all.~_

_*To us, such knowledge comes almost without thought,* _said Jolinar. _*But the process of blending and being Tok'ra is just a natural process, a science like human anatomy is to you. Even the most careless host, after a year, probably knows more of it than most Tok'ra. After twenty years, or a hundred, it becomes a foundation of all other knowledge, rarely thought of.*_

_~You'd know, wouldn't you,~ _ said Sam. _~How many hosts have you had?~_

_*Such a thing is not talked of among the Tok'ra,* _said Jolinar, brooding and with a hint of warning.

_~So many things...I hope you are kinder to your voluntary hosts about such issues,~ _said Sam. _~Or should I just warn them that you are more than usually testy?~_

_*A voluntary host would care about the relationship, and not constantly and deliberately thwart the desires of his or her symbiote,* _answered Jolinar.

_~Yup, they're going to know everything before you let me go,~ _said Sam.

_*Now come, I thought we were focused on the mission,* _continued Jolinar.

_~It is not until tomorrow at least, so you said,~ _said Sam.

_*Yes, but there are preparations that will take up the rest of the day,* _said Jolinar. _*To obtain a ship we must pose as a Goa'uld, and that will take more than traditional Tok'ra equipment to achieve.*_

_~Yes, please, let's get on with that,~ _said Sam, willingly changing the subject.

Outside of their mind, Martouf and Lantash came up to the table.

"Ah," said Jolinar, looking up.

Lantash had a frown on his face. "You went to the Council and requested another mission?"

"It was not out of desire, but necessity," she answered.

Lantash sat down with determination opposite her. "I have only just gotten you back from near-death, and you leave after denying me your presence during your one day here?"

Jolinar flinched. "You know that the good of the Tok'ra outweighs all."

"I only know that it seems to _be_ all in your eyes," said Lantash, leaning forward.

"This is not ideal, as you are well aware," said Jolinar, frustratedly. "I had not intended to leave until a suitable host could be found, but circumstances changed."

"Yes, and at the first moment you leapt for a mission," said Lantash. "Especially with this situation, you should have been patient."

"I do not force Samantha into this," said Jolinar. "She requested it."

"She does not know enough to make an informed request," said Lantash sharply. "For I know you well enough to know you have explained only that which was demanded of you to explain."

"She is no down-trodden woman of a Goa'uld's world, who must be trained to think and fight," answered Jolinar strongly. "She is a warrior of her own right, and not afraid or even unaware of what we will be facing."

Lantash sat back in his chair, sighed, and bowed his head. "My love," said Martouf as he surfaced. "Can you not wait one day at least?"

"And give another day to the enemies of Apophis?" said Jolinar.

"It is but a day," said Martouf, a soft smile in the corners of his mouth. "You have always been careful about time, but not all in the world count by every second."

Jolinar rested her forearms on the table, leaning in a little. "And if we go, and find Amonet one day gone?"

"The likelihood of that, Jolinar," countered Martouf, leaning in the merest fraction of an inch. "You know as I do how slim it is."

"You worry both too much and too little," said Jolinar. "If undertaken now, I will feel certain of our success and not fear for either of our lives. Any wait leads to more danger, both for the mission and for us." She pushed her plate away, gathering up the utensils.

"So this conversation is done?" said Martouf. 

"Neither Samantha nor I wish to waste our time," said Jolinar, taking her plate and rising.

Martouf also stood up, putting a hand on hers. "Jolinar—my love—we are not angry at you."

"Then why push me so?" asked Jolinar, looking him straight in the eye. "Why must this issue always arise, when you know you will get no new response?"

"Not always, Jolinar," said Martouf, stroking her hand soothingly. "We might not have spoken had it not been for Samantha."

Jolinar sighed. "I have missed your company as well," she added. "I promise that I shall take my leave of duty as soon as it is a viable option."

Martouf nodded. "And before you go?"

"I shall not leave unfarewelled," said Jolinar.

Martouf smiled a little, squeezed her hand, and followed her as she disposed of her dishes. Then they parted ways, as before.

_~I did not realize that this would be an issue for him,~ _said Sam.

_*Do not feel guilty,*_ said Jolinar. _*Martouf and Lantash are more about thoughts than actions. I tire of all this talk.*_

_~I don't,~ _said Sam. _~That is, it felt good to be around those who spoke in more than three word sentences for a change, but I am ready to go now.~_

_*Good. I will expect more silence than usual on this mission, for I must hold up the pretense of having suppressed my host,* _said Jolinar.

ooooooo

Jolinar led Sam to many different areas of the Tok'ra base the rest of that afternoon. First came a room full of gaudy and brilliantly-patterned clothing, and Jolinar took for herself one of the most distracting. Sam was quietly conflicted with the style of clothing, more slave waitress than god, she thought—but then, Jolinar had said they would only be posing as a minor Goa'uld. Still, Sam wasn't used to showing that much skin. At least she wouldn't be the one having to act comfortable, and considering Jolinar's Tok'ra wardrobe, _she_ wouldn't find it an issue.

Next was the vast warehouse of Goa'uld technology and equipment. Sam would have nearly drooled over the amazing resource, but Jolinar was swift and sure, and took only what she needed; a communicator, a hand device, a healing device, and a couple odds and ends that Sam did not recognize. But as they walked out, and Sam saw all the oddly shaped devices, some of which had forms that betrayed their purpose—she vowed to demand of Jolinar as soon as they were separated that exploring this place would be her recompense for all the inconvenience.

Soon after, a return trip to the infirmary. Larys was alone there, and lit up to see her return. After a compliment on her recovered looks, he retrieved a small case of vials, shots, and jars. No bandages, because if nothing else a Tok'ra symbiote could stop bleeding quickly.

"You will be safe," he said as Jolinar left. "I wouldn't be as kind with my words were you to return to my care."

"I shan't fail again," said Jolinar, and did Sam imagine that her eyes rolled or was it just a long blink?

_~So, how will we transport this without a ship?~ _asked Sam. _~I assume you don't have Jaffa.~_

_*We will transport many of these supplies to a small moon near where we shall commandeer our ship, and once we have it, it will be a short trip to retrieve them.*_

Sam noticed that they brought no food, a fact she would not have found surprising had not Jolinar eaten every day like a human. Still, it would be a short trip, would it not? And these Al'kesh that Jolinar talked of must have emergency rations.

It was almost night when Jolinar made her last stop, to a room that looked suspiciously like the central computer monitor station in the SGC, with dozens of screens and lights flickering in the dark room. A Tok'ra with a youngish host brought forward a small, tablet sized computer to Jolinar after a few moments, but as no questions were asked and no answers given, it was a strange transaction.

_~This is?~ _asked Sam.

_*The most up-to-date information from all our operatives,_* said Jolinar. _*Unlikely to be required, but being caught without it is a position of helplessness that I do not wish to be in again.*_

By the time they returned to Jolinar's chambers, it felt like night, even if the tunnels were only dimmed artificially. After several trips, the amount of equipment was surprising to Sam. But thanks, she assumed, to the many centuries of similar Tok'ra missions, the Tok'ra version of a suitcase was specially built to fit all of this exactly. Jolinar kept out a few things, "pocket items" as she said, and her outfit. Sam didn't look too closely, but had to acknowledge that it was worse than her prom dress in both daring and horrid style.

Sam expected that they would go to rest now, considering the important departure tomorrow, but Jolinar did not make a move once all was laid neatly it its place.

_*I must ask a favor of you,* _she said.

_~Really?~ _asked Sam.

_*Martouf, Lantash and I; every night before a mission we spend on the surface.*_

_~Um, Jolinar, I can't...I've barely gotten to know either of you,~ _Sam stammered.

Jolinar smirked. _*You humans and your dirty minds...I would not ask such a thing of you, Samantha. My words were exact—we spend the night on the sands of this world and watch the sun and the stars.*_

_~Oh,~ _said Sam, slightly more embarrassed than before.

_*You would not object?* _asked Jolinar.

_~No,~_ said Sam. _~Actually, it sounds very nice—I didn't get to see much when we arrived.~_

_*I noticed from your memories that your planet is very green,* _said Jolinar. _*The worlds that the Tok'ra have always inhabited have been barren, to avoid contact, and the Goa'uld have no appreciation for the outside world. I have grown to love the warmth and the sand and the clear skies, but I see from your mind that it would be strange to you.*_

_~Well, Earth is not all green,~ _said Sam. _~Not even close. It's just—it's a big planet, and without a Stargate, most of us don't go far beyond our hometown.~_

_*Without a Stargate?*_

_~We've had to keep that a secret, for political reasons,~_ said Sam, giving her the Cliff's Notes version.

_*And yet your planet is so often threatened... The more I learn of your planet, the more I am surprised we escaped alive,* _commented Jolinar, and she turned to leave and find Martouf and Lantash.

Sam was surprised and felt a pang at that, but she hid the hurt and tried not to take it personally. The Tok'ra were older and had been living in this world for so long, and even they weren't perfect—their judgment had little weight, especially for a world that had not known for so long that it should be preparing for new horizons. And Jolinar was pretty much tactless. It was easier to suck it up with someone like that, especially when they lived in your mind.

ooooooo

Three hours later, sitting on a soft blanket to keep the sand away, with knees drawn close to the chest in the cool breeze, deep red sunset recreating the simple tan desert as a truly alien world of beauty—Sam didn't even mind that Jolinar had her head leaning on Martouf and Lantash's shoulder, with his arm gently around her shoulders. They had been discreet, silent, and Sam hadn't got the impression that it was just for her.

She was getting drowsy, peaceful and comfortable after her less-than-dull first day on the Tok'ra home-world. Only two days since she had been forced from her own world, and even with Jolinar symbolizing the separation of the two, she felt out of place. Even worse, she felt guilty when her surroundings made her forget that she was essentially a hostage. At this point, a mostly-willing hostage, and treated as a guest, but when it came down to the nitty gritty details?

She just wanted to find a way home. Beneath the unavoidable scientific curiosity of her situation, she hadn't asked for this and never would have. If they could only rescue Sha're, find a host for Jolinar, and when Daniel dialed Abydos if she could just convince him that everything was all right...and if she could convince the military... It wasn't something she could plan for, but when her mind was less distracted by the amazing new things around her, it was all she could think of.

As Sam had withdrawn to let Jolinar have a semi-private moment with Martouf and Lantash, the symbiote had also pulled back on her end, so that Sam wasn't even sure that her loudest and most deliberate thoughts would break through. Jolinar had always been guarded, but now Sam could only guess at what was going through her mind, and it felt strangely unnatural. Despite her confidence, was she thinking about the mission now? Or about the inconvenience of having to think of Sam? Was this tradition a form of meditation for them, just a symbolic ritual, or was she only getting a partial experience of what this couple would have done?

And more importantly, did Jolinar know what this all meant to Sam? To be sure, Sam had only met Sha're briefly, mostly by watching her interact with the then-stranger Daniel, and later she had regretted it. She and Daniel had bonded quickly on the team, not least to have someone to hear and understand their rants after dealing with the warrior minds that surrounded them, but also on a more personal level. Sam was fascinated with how Daniel was both so open and so closed with himself, and after being around Teal'c and the Colonel and her father and General Hammond, it was a relief to listen to a man who did not find that emotions had to be ground and squeezed out but could be freely expressed.

But whatever their friendship, Sam had grown to understand Sha're through Daniel, so much so that she was far more than a simple host to her. And she didn't think Jolinar, or any of the Tok'ra, understood that. Sam wanted Sha're to be free, not just for Daniel, but because it was the right thing to do. And she was willing to put her life on the line if the success of this mission accomplished that.

There had been a moment when Sam doubted herself, thinking that maybe she only thought of Sha're as a bargaining chip to convince Earth to accept her back. But like all the millions of doubts that frequently plagued Sam, she was quickly able to examine and confidently dismiss it as meaningless. No one's motives were pure, but she couldn't see any way where she was compromising herself or others by taking on this mission.

The sun dipped nearer to the horizon, and the purple streaked into the blood-red sky, with deep blue and tiny white stars just beyond that. Night was coming, and as all nights before something big, Sam's mind ran in circles for hours, but eventually and willingly succumbed. She didn't know how long Jolinar planned to stay up, but it was not even fully starry-skied when Sam fell asleep.

Her dreams were plagued with Goa'uld ships and Goa'uld voices, Jaffa ambushes on Abydos and Apophis' hand device, and worst of all Amonet's laughter as she had them all in her trap.


	10. Identification

**Chapter 9 - Identification**

Sam woke up with sand in her hair and in the corners of her eyes, the rest of her thankfully wrapped in the blanket from last night. The sun was behind her, and Jolinar was fast asleep. Martouf—or Lantash—stood on the ridge, looking out over the golden sand dunes lit by the morning sun. Looking at the state of the blanket, though, Sam surmised that he had slept nearby. It was an uncomfortable thought, but not as bad as it could have been under other circumstances. Slowly, not to wake Jolinar, Sam sat up and used her fingers to brush out her hair. Jolinar had not taken out the gel from yesterday, and combined with the sand, it made her hair gritty and sticking out in several directions. Sam pushed it all down as best she could, but resigned herself to the fact that it was bed-head, pure and simple.

Martouf/Lantash must have heard her rustle, and turned back. Judging from his face, Sam was sure he knew that Jolinar wasn't in control—it wouldn't be difficult to tell, considering how both of them held themselves and the facial expressions they allowed.

"Good morning, Samantha," he said—it was definitely Martouf.

"She's still asleep," said Sam quietly. She took a deep breath; the slight desert wind was only a little less dry than the night before and there was a warmish smell to the air.

"That's good," Martouf commented. "She is so stubborn about it, but she needs sleep."

"Really?" said Sam. "She seemed willing enough before."

Martouf frowned a little. "Yes, when it becomes a necessity—but she lets it get that far."

"Is that—" Sam started, then broke off. "Never mind."

"What is it?" asked Martouf, sitting down next to her again.

"It's just—I think her lack of sleep shows," said Sam.

Martouf smiled. "Yes, you noticed?"

There was a pause, and then, as Jolinar was still soundly sleeping, "I hated her," said Sam.

Martouf blinked, but didn't flinch.

"It wasn't just the irritability," said Sam, "but that was part of it. I—I didn't want to say it like that earlier."

"I can appreciate that," said Martouf. "It was wrong, what she did."

"I don't think that was it," admitted Sam. "If she had ignored me, I wouldn't have cared. But it was who she was, and how she acted, and the way she tried to convince me it would be fine if I would just accept it. It still bothers me, but it made me hate her then."

Martouf nodded slowly, his brow furrowed in a slightly darker mood. "And yet, you aided her in the escape?"

"I didn't hate her enough to kill us both," said Sam with a weak smile. "And, well, just because I hate someone...I don't get caught up in it. She's not the first person in my life like that, anyway..."

Martouf cocked his head and looked at her. "Family?" he asked.

"Yeah, actually," said Sam, looking up with some surprise. "Did you...?"

"I don't think about those times much," said Martouf. "But now, as Tok'ra, we are all children of Egeria, even adopted ones. And—well, families are not so different among other races."

"The ones you love and hate to love at the same time?" said Sam half-rhetorically.

Martouf nodded. "Even in happy families, there is always that someone."

"Yeah," said Sam. "I don't really know about that. We tried to hold things together, but my family doesn't really talk to each other. I think I talk to my friends on the team more than I've ever spoken to my brother or my dad."

"That is good, that you have those who care for you," said Martouf. "You are anxious to get back to them?"

"Sort of," said Sam. "I'm worried, though—I don't want to go yet. I need this mission to go well before anything else can happen. That's what I'm anxious for, right now."

_*Yes, I hear you,_* said Jolinar, waking up. _*Trying to be subtle in your waking techniques?*_

_~Actually, I was just talking to Martouf, not you,~_ commented Sam.

"Awoken at last?" asked Martouf, seeing the change on Sam's face.

"And perky as ever," said Sam with rueful grin.

_*We should move quickly,* _said Jolinar, not taking control, but clearly wishing to.

"Well, I think we'll be getting started," said Sam, standing up.

Martouf stood, and scooped up the blanket. "Thank you, Samantha, for allowing this."

"It's okay, that was fine," said Sam, giving the briefest of smiles to prove her point. "I guess I'll see you when we get back, then."

"Indeed," said Martouf.

"Say goodbye to Lantash for me," said Samantha. She bowed her head, and Jolinar jumped at her permission.

"Martouf," she said.

"Sleep well, my love?" asked Martouf.

"Well enough," said Jolinar. "We shall leave shortly, if there is no further interruption."

"Then this is farewell again," said Martouf with a slight sigh.

"For a short time," said Jolinar. They stood standing for a moment, looking deep into each other's eyes, and Sam felt that they were communicating without words.

Then Martouf lowered his head, and Lantash came forward. He stepped forward, leaning down to rest his forehead against Jolinar's. "You have not promised to be careful on this venture yet," he said.

"Must it always be spoken?" said Jolinar.

"With you, yes," said Lantash. He was about to lean in closer, then paused.

_*May I have this?* _asked Jolinar quickly.

Sam held back for a second, then gave in, _~Keep it clean, please,~ _she said.

Jolinar leaned up, softly kissing Lantash. Carefully, almost gingerly, as if Sam was literally in the middle and they did not wish to squash her, they shared this kiss. Lantash barely put his arms around Jolinar, thumbs running in small circles on her arms. It was sweet, it was tender, and Sam just pretended it was happening to someone else. It wasn't too traumatic in the end—she rather liked Martouf, and even Lantash. She just wasn't ready to behave as if they were married. The embrace ended shortly.

"We will be on our way, then," said Jolinar.

It was a brisk walk back to the Tok'ra facilities, and though the sun was blaringly bright, the morning felt good to Sam. Jolinar was as usual, taking a brief sponge bath and washing her hair in a matter of moments. Again, she brushed it down and gelled it flat. But she opened a drawer and brought out rouge and other paints, a bit more old-fashioned than what Sam wore on special occasions, but perfect for the role. After brushing on a dark lilac eye color and a rich dark lipstick, what with the change in hairstyle, Sam was surprised at how unfamiliar her own face could look with the right treatment.

Then it was time to put on the rest of the part. The Goa'uld gown that Jolinar selected was a plum color, but highlighted in a more flashy magenta. It was made of a heavily jeweled and brocaded fabric, but the skirt was in pieces like a leather battle-dress and beneath it flowed a gauzy fabric that poked out between the slits. The bodice was lightly corseted, with a low scalloped neckline and short shell sleeves, with an under-sleeve in the same gauzy material that was slit on the bottom seam. Standing still in front of the mirror, it all looked stately and just a bit ridiculous.

It was frightening to Sam how she could almost forget that it was her there, not Jolinar of Malkshur (or whatever alias she would use), Goa'uld System Lord. And as soon as Jolinar began walking down the corridor, the under-sleeve and the skirt flowed out behind, and it was all quite royally graceful, only adding to the impression. Jolinar always held herself like a queen, but in this outfit her manner felt intimidating to Sam. That was a good feeling, though, she told herself.

Most of the supplies they had packed were already sent through the gate, and of the essentials that had to be carried, the gown offered several hidden pockets. It was a swift walk to the gate, where armed Tok'ra stood ready to dial.

"Good journey," offered the one with a slight bow.

"Safe return," said the other, dialing the gate.

Jolinar barely nodded in return, neck firmly held, chin and nose tilted a little upwards.

The familiar sounds gave Sam hints of regret as the chevrons locked, but she forced herself to ignore them. At last, the whirl and chaos of blue, and then the shimmering puddle. Jolinar stepped forward, took one last breath, and led them both through the wormhole.

ooooooo

Daniel ate alone in the commissary, as he usually did. It would have been his desire for the team to all eat together, but shortly after forming, it became clear that his teammates were not so social. Even Sam, who had clicked with him in almost all things, usually ate in silence and alone, probably going over various problems in her mind. Eating was the only time Daniel didn't want to think about work, and he wanted someone else there to distract him from thinking about his personal life. Especially now.

No, especially _now_. It had been bad enough, this past year, but this was the third day of the worst time of his life. He wouldn't admit it to anyone, because they were all keeping up a good face, and he even tried to behave as if it wasn't an act. But he missed her. They all did, and they wouldn't admit the pain.

It was worse than if she had died, if there had been a memorial service and black suits and a time of mourning. No, this was MIA, and in the worst possible way. It wasn't like they could scan every inch until they found her, even if they had permission, and it wasn't like they knew she was just waiting for them. They didn't know anything, and they couldn't ask.

A little quip here, a joke there, and Daniel managed to get through the day. But eating breakfast was a vulnerable time. At least today would be full, as they finalized how the new team would look. He would have thought that he'd be more indignant, but maybe the loss of Sha're had been better preparation than he knew. Whatever he had learned, it was that he could bury himself in his work and in other people, and as soon as there was someone else on the team he could get to work on that.

If he didn't kill Jack first. Or Teal'c, except any frustration towards him was quickly tempered by his frightening presence. Mostly it was just Jack. God, how he missed Sam, the one person who could sympathize when their glorious team leader purposely pushed his buttons. When he met with the prospective teammates today, his one desire was to find a smidgen of that compatibility, at least to have someone who'd be more on his side than Jack's or Teal'c's.

Sighing, he looked at the clock. It was time. He picked up his tray and carried it to the counter. Truth be told, he wasn't meant to be on a team like this—he wasn't good at picking partners, especially not for a mission where loss could almost be expected, and he didn't look forward to it. He'd have been more than happy to have the burden out of his hands.

Except, well, the other hands were all military. No, he needed this choice, to do justice to Sam and to the team and Earth in general as SG-1 resumed its exploration of the galaxy. And he only had to act like he was content about it.

ooooooo

The world on the other side of the wormhole was fresh and new. Jolinar stepped out onto a platform above what was almost a Goa'uld parking lot. Sam was overwhelmed at the sight of so many ships, large and small, but the numbers making as much an impression as the size. They were gorgeous and impressive, and the bug-like Jaffa moving among their huge bases seemed inconsequential to their majesty.

The Jaffa at the gate, however, did not.

"Who are you?" asked the leader, the symbol of Apophis in inky black on his forehead.

"I am Meshkhent, servant of Apophis," Jolinar declared, voice harsh and firm. "I have been sent to a prepare a ship for his service."

"We received no word of this," said the Jaffa, not moving from his spot or lowering the staff weapon in his hands.

"Fool, I am the word sent!" said Jolinar, flashing her eyes.

"As our lord commands," said the Jaffa, bowing his head. "I shall send this Jaffa to accompany you."

"I need not his help," said Jolinar brushing away. "Our lord requires haste, and I know well what I seek."

"Of course," said the Jaffa, bowing again.

"You shall not patronize me again," warned Jolinar before sweeping past him and down the stairs off the platform.

There was a small winding path down the hill on which the Stargate stood, and then they were among the ships. Sam sat back, drinking in the view Jolinar gave her. She felt the tingle as the naquadah in Jolinar reacted with the Goa'uld ships even more strongly than with the other symbiotes. But she didn't even need that connection—only recently had she been so close to one of these ships, and even then she had admired them. Now, as she was to fly one again, and the world wasn't in danger—it was an amazing feeling of power.

Sam wasn't exactly sure which type of ship they were going for, but Jolinar didn't move towards the huge pyramid ships, and after walking past a couple of the tinier versions, she assumed that the larger, flatter ones must be Al'kesh. As they drew near to one, Sam was quite satisfied. It was a good ship, large enough to fit the alibi, but small enough for one trained pilot.

Jolinar walked with long strides up to one, and did not even glance at the Jaffa standing guard. She stepped inside, and Sam had conflicting feelings—Jolinar's, of pleasure at the familiar design, and her own, on alert whenever near Goa'uld things. Jolinar walked around a little running her hand along the wall, the hand device clinking nicely against it.

"It is well made," she said aloud to no one. Sweeping back out to the entrance, she stared down the Jaffa. "You there! Our lord requires that this ship be sent to him immediately. You will tell your commander that I have taken it, for I have no time to report to such a peon."

The Jaffa's eyes darted between the ship, Jolinar, and his leader up by the Stargate, but he bowed his head and marched off.

"Success," said Jolinar with a dark grin.

Before any suspicion might have been made, she went to the bridge and sat down. Sam watched with interest as she adjusted dials and pressed buttons, and the whole thing began to light up. Then the engines rumbled, and shields were raised, and before another minute had passed they were in the air. Sam remembered the glory of her first solo flight in a fighter jet, and realized as the clouds gave way to stars, that this combined the glory of that with her ever-constant longing for space. Sure, she worked in space now, but it was really on land—not _in_ space.

_*We are free of the planet,* _said Jolinar. _*And only if the Jaffa at the gate suspected us are we in danger of being tracked. Otherwise, we left too swiftly. With some luck, it will be a full day or more before they discover the truth.*_

A moment or so in space, and then that web-like window opened and they were flying through the streaky-blue-purple of hyperspace. Jolinar set the coordinates and controls, and walked back to the other areas of the ship. As Sam had suspected, there were food rations and other various things that might be needed for travel. Returning to the bridge, she found that they were almost to the planet.

They jumped out, Jolinar flew low and ringed up the previously packed supplies, and then they were back up in the sky and on their way to Abydos. Even at full hyperspace it would take many hours, and Jolinar retired to a more comfortable room.

_~The people of Abydos have been untroubled by the Goa'uld for some time now,~_ said Sam. _~What if they try to kill you?~_

_*You will speak to them,* _said Jolinar. _*We will see as soon as we land whether there are Jaffa, and if not, surely your presence will keep them calm.*_

_~In this dress?~_

_*Then mention your friend right off, Daniel was it?*_

_~Sha're will know that you are there,~ _said Sam. _~I've noticed how easy it is to tell where other symbiotes are.~_

_*Is she one to order her people to fire on sight?* _asked Jolinar.

Sam almost laughed. _~No, I don't think so. She wouldn't be adverse to it if necessary, but she's diplomatic.~ _The amusement gave way to a mood much darker. _~That was before she was taken—who knows what all this time has done to her.~_

There being nothing further to discuss, Jolinar went into some sort of deep meditation, and Sam wondered if it was at all related to kel'no'reem. The past couple days had been fairly kind on her and she wasn't needing sleep, so she started to run through her old plan for increasing the efficiency of the dialing program. It was longer without recourse to a computer or even pen and paper, but that just filled up the time.

_*What?*_

The sudden noise in Sam's head made her jolt. _~What?~_

_*I fell asleep, what is this about variables?*_

_~Nothing,~ _said Sam. _~Nothing I was talking to you about, anyway. How long has it been?~_

_*I am not a personal timekeeping device,* _said Jolinar. _*Especially not while sleeping.*_

_~The Tok'ra need to invest in watches,~_ said Sam.

_*Time is rarely an issue,* _said Jolinar. _*As you've seen, a few extra minutes here and there matter little.*_

_~Come on then, I have to know what it is now,~_ said Sam.

Jolinar rose from her relaxed position and wandered to the bridge. According to the computer they were about half an hour from Abydos.

_~Wow, how long were you asleep?~ _asked Sam.

_*Not long,* _said Jolinar. _*And what were these variables that had you engrossed so that you did not notice ten hours passing by?*_

_~It's not that simple to explain,~ _said Sam. _~But I could, if you're really interested in our version of a DHD.~_

_*That primitive thing?* _asked Jolinar.

_~That we invented without having a DHD to work with,~_ said Sam. _~Yes, several other alien races have found it quite fascinating.~_

_*And did these races have a fondness for history museums?* _asked Jolinar.

_~Just, stop it,~ _said Sam. _~Never mind.~_

_*How did Ra take the dialing device but not the Stargate?* _asked Jolinar after a moment.

Sam smirked as Jolinar forgot she was supposed to be scornful. _~Well, we think that the DHD was on Earth but was somehow destroyed. We haven't found it.~_

_*Have you been looking?* _asked Jolinar. _*Why give up after only two years?*_

Sam laughed. _~Jolinar, we've been digging in almost every place on this planet for hundreds of years—just because we didn't know what we were looking for doesn't mean we weren't looking for anything. And the Stargate was found eighty years ago, it was just that it took a long time to find out what it was and how to use it.~_

_*Eighty years,* _marveled Jolinar. _*And your history had nothing that might suggest what it was?*_

_~Well, if you believe Daniel...~_ Sam trailed off. _~Never mind.~_

They sat in silence, staring out into hyperspace. Only a few more minutes...

Finally the strange sky gave way to stars again, and they were just out of Abydos' orbit. Jolinar took the controls and guided the ship to the surface, using her sensors as a guide to find where the Stargate was.

_~What if she didn't come here?~_ though Sam suddenly.

_*Stop that!*_

The landing was smooth, and for a few seconds Jolinar still sat. She brought up another screen, and watched as it registered who was approaching the ship.

_*No one,* _she said. _*Why do you suppose that?*_

_~They have been trained to fight against the Goa'uld,~ _said Sam.

_*Ah, here comes one. But one only—there are no Jaffa here, else they would have approached in numbers.*_

Standing up and stretching for a moment after the long ride, Jolinar twisted her neck to one side until there was a light pop. Exhaling satisfactorily, she rose and strode down to open the ramp.

_~Um, Jolinar?~_

_*Oh, yes,* _she said, stopping and giving the control to Sam.

Feeling every part of her body again was a welcome sensation to Sam, even if the clothes and heavy makeup felt even stranger than before. Smiling, but nervously, she pressed the button combination that would open the door. It went down slowly, but at last revealed who had come.

_*Do you know him?* _asked Jolinar.

_~Yes, yes, I'm pretty sure, but I don't remember his name,~ _said Sam.

The old man stood tall and proud, but Sam could read in his stance that he was just as, if not more, nervous than she was. She stepped forward, and couldn't help but notice how strange the long skirt felt compared to the BDUs.

"My lord?" asked the man hesitantly.

Good father, that was it, and—Kasuf! "Kasuf," said Sam, stepping forward and trying not to look worried.

Kasuf stepped back. "Who are you?"

"Do you remember when Daniel was last with you?" she asked. "And the people from his world?"

"Cappincata?" asked Kasuf.

"Close enough," said Sam, smiling. "Sam will work."

"Why do you stand before me as a false god?" he demanded.

"Has Sha're returned?" asked Sam.

Kasuf stepped back again. "What do you know of this?"

"She's here, then," said Sam, stepping forward as her heart began to beat faster. "Kasuf, I know this looks strange, but we didn't know if Amonet brought any Jaffa."

"You know the name of the demon as well," said Kasuf, watching her with a strange expression. "How do you know this? Why are you here? Where is my son Dan'yel?"

"It's a long story, Kasuf, but I'm the only one here," said Sam.

 "Ah, but you said we, I heard you," said Kasuf. "Is Dan'yel coming?"

"It's part of the long story, trust me," said Sam. "Please, I need to see Sha're."

Kasuf nodded slowly, but he did not seem to stop watching her as they began walking. Jolinar had landed just outside the settlement, and it was a short walk across the sand to the tents.

"It is well!" called Kasuf as they drew near.

People who had been crowded in tents, leaving the walkways bare, began spilling out. Sam was not surprised to see that they still had some Earth guns, as well as Goa'uld weapons, and were ready to wield them if they had to. They stared at her with wide eyes.

"It is Dan'yel's friend!" called Kasuf above the murmurings as they passed through the crowd.

_*These are a strange people,* _commented Jolinar. _*Stranger than yours, almost.*_

Kasuf finally stopped in front of a tent, and turned to face Sam. "What do you mean to do?"

"I'm not going to hurt her, Kasuf, if that's what you mean," said Sam.

"But it is a long story," said Kasuf, nodding.

Sam smiled. "Yeah, yeah it is."

Still slightly suspicious, Kasuf pulled back the tent door and led her inside. Sam looked around, and in the corner caught a glimpse of dark curls.

"My daughter," said Kasuf, walking towards her. "You must see, it is one who knows Dan'yel."

Sha're stood up as her father came, and as she turned to Sam it was plain that all was as they had thought—she was unequivocally far along in her pregnancy. She saw Sam, and her face seemed to brighten a little. Sam stepped forward, and then stopped. Sha're's face darkened.

"Father, she is demon-possessed!" she cried.

"What is this?" demanded Kasuf, glancing past Sam as if to judge how long it would take his people to come.

"Please, let me tell you the full story before you do anything," said Sam, putting up her hands non-threateningly. "I am not a Goa'uld."

"Then why can I feel it?" asked Sha're. "My senses have not lied, you are demon or Jaffa."

"Not exactly," said Sam. "Can we sit down? I'm not going to do anything, I just want to talk."

Sha're looked to her father. "You sit," he said. "I will stand."

Sam nodded, and stepped forward to sit by Sha're. The woman did not flinch at her presence, but neither did she look pleased. But Sam, finally seeing her after all this tension, felt her shoulders and neck relax.

"Where is Dan'yel?" asked Sha're, letting her piercing gaze rest full on Sam.

"I don't know," said Sam.

"Are you not part of SG-1?" asked Sha're. "I have heard of you."

"Sha're, I haven't seen Daniel in several days," said Sam. "You were right—I have a symbiote in me. That is why I had to leave Daniel and our world."

"Your demon is silent also?" asked Sha're curiously.

"In a way," said Sam, smiling a little, and more as Jolinar murmured in her mind. "They are not all demons, Sha're."

"A good demon?" asked Sha're. "No, they do not exist."

"That's what she told you, isn't it," said Sam, and she almost felt guilty as Sha're flinched.

"Yes," said Sha're.

"These creatures that take us, they do not all wish to control our lives," said Sam, talking slowly as she tried to find the right words to explain it. "They need us, and some of them just want to share our body and mind."

"I do not believe it," said Sha're, shaking her head.

"I know, it's strange," said Sam. "But these—beings—they wish to free all of us from the Goa'uld. They fight for us. They are the Tok'ra."

Sha're looked up at this. "That name..."

"She probably knows it," said Sam. "The Goa'uld fear them."

Sha're frowned, thinking.

Sam reached forward and put a hand on her knee. "Sha're, I'm here to help you. I know what Amonet has done to you, and I know what will happen when your child is born."

Sha're looked up, suddenly stricken. "You know what the child is?"

"Yes," said Sam. "And we—the Tok'ra and me—want to save him, want to save you. We can take Amonet away forever and let you be free again."

"Free for Dan'yel?" asked Sha're.

"Yes," said Sam. "I can't find him now, but I promise you will be free and we'll find him together."

Sha're looked down at her hands, then looked back up at Sam, her eyes sharp. "And if you are a demon who seeks to deceive me?"

"Would a Goa'uld try, or would they come with Jaffa and take you by force?" countered Sam.

"Maybe you want my information, or what my demon can tell you?" said Sha're.

"It is your choice," said Sam. "If you don't want to come, I won't stop you."

_*You would let this galactic choice rest on one woman's feelings?*_ asked Jolinar suddenly.

_~You would force her to a choice?~_

_*I would find another way first, but if the galaxy depended on it...*_

_~Well, it doesn't, not now.~_

Sha're looked up. "You were friend to Dan'yel?"

"Yes," said Sam. "I still am, I hope."

"And the Tok'ra will not keep me from finding him?"

"No, of course not," said Sam.

"Then I will trust you," said Sha're. "I do not know if I believe, but I will trust you."

Sam couldn't help it, and let her smile grow even wider. "I won't disappoint," she said.

Sha're rose. "If you have spoken falsely, I shall not give in," she warned.

There was no comment to follow that. "Let's go, then," Sam said. "We will take the ship."

"But my daughter!" said Kasuf. He had been silent, nodding at times, but now came forward. "Dan'yel returns to this world, and what shall I say to him if you are not here?"

Sha're looked to Sam, worried.

"We'll be back for that, I promise," said Sam. "It would be a disaster if we missed it."

"How will I know how she is?" asked Kasuf.

"Is your gate buried?" asked Sam.

"Of course, Dan'yel said so," said Kasuf.

"Okay, but he's not coming for several weeks," said Sam. "But if you unbury it in two weeks, I'll contact you and you'll know what happened."

"You are sure?" asked Kasuf, and Sam didn't know which one of them he was talking to.

"I am sure," said Sha're.

Kasuf looked to Sam.

"I'll bring her back and she will be free," said Sam.

Sha're ran back to embrace her father, and then returned to Sam. As they left the tent and began walking to the ship, Sam realized that everything had gone without a hitch.

_~Wow,~_ she said. _~Not bad for a mission with so many variables.~_

_*Yes, too well,* _said Jolinar darkly. _*If this is luck alone, it is rarer than the rarest of possibilities.*_

_~We won for now, though,~_ said Sam. _~And we can't know what will happen next. I say we take the win.~_

Jolinar silently gave in, and they reached the ship. A few more hours, and they would be in safety. Sam's hopes were realized—the Goa'uld were not all powerful, and there was a chance that she could get home. That was worth even this horrid disguise.


	11. Undercurrents

**Chapter 10 - Undercurrents**

On board the Al'kesh, things were unnervingly still.

_~You realize that you're going to have to stay quiet for a while,~_ said Sam as Jolinar set the course for the Tok'ra home-world again.

_*Yes, I can see that she is uncomfortable,* _said Jolinar, handing back control to Sam.

Sha're sat in the seat opposite Sam, back straight and hands resting beneath her wide belly. The glowing lights of the consoles shone on both of them, calming and just a little surreal.

"I need to know the truth," said Sam. Sha're looked up. "Do you really believe me?"

"No," said Sha're without hesitation. "Not all of it. Much of what you say is too strange for truth."

"You know, that's what I thought when I heard that Daniel was living on an alien planet," said Sam, leaning forward a little more comfortably.

"It was not strange to me," said Sha're. "Only Dan'yel was."

"Well, he's even a bit strange to people from our world," said Sam, smiling. "No, I mean that there are lots of strange things in this universe, and not all of them are untrue."

"My demon knew of the Tok'ra," said Sha're. "She knew that they fought against the Goa'uld, but I do not believe they are like your people. They only want the power of the Goa'uld. But if they take the demon from me and let me go to Daniel, I do not care."

Sam nodded. "I'm glad—I think you'll understand more when you meet them."

"Am I not meeting one now?" asked Sha're, eyebrow raised.

"Not really," said Sam. "My Tok'ra, Jolinar, is being quiet. She lets me do what I wish for now."

"But she does not push you down, but shares your mind?" asked Sha're. "Are you not one in the same then?"

"Oh no," said Sam. "We have separate thoughts, very separate. Most of the Tok'ra wish to share everything, but I—don't."

"Why did you leave your home?" asked Sha're.

"I had to," said Sam. "Jolinar took me when she was dying, and we had to escape."

"Then they are not as different as you say," said Sha're, nodding to confirm her suspicions.

"That's not the way it usually works," said Sam. "Once we find someone who wishes to share their life with Jolinar, she'll leave me by herself."

"So she says," said Sha're. "And you trust her?"

"I see many of her thoughts," said Sam. "And I've met her kind. I don't doubt them now."

Sha're sighed.

"Are you all right?" asked Sam.

"I have lived without hope for so long, I feel unable to truly worry again," Sha're said. "But I think I should fear for this child."

"It's not going to be easy," said Sam. "But there'll be two worlds fighting for him or her, if everything goes well."

"Two?"

"Earth and the Tok'ra," said Sam. "They both would want you two safe."

"I will feel fortunate if that happens," said Sha're, smiling a little.

"Are you all right with this?" asked Sam.

"My child?" asked Sha're. "Yes, of course." 

"Are you sure?" asked Sam again. "I mean, I know it must have been hard for you to know that—that he or she was conceived—"

"From evil, yes," said Sha're, ending Sam's uncomfortable trailing. "But this life within me is not Goa'uld. It is what they cannot do, have children of their own. This small child is our strength." She stroked her belly. "I have chosen to forget all else," she said pointedly.

Sam nodded, smiling a little. Sha're bowed her head as she sat, one hand on top of her belly, the other wrapped supportively underneath. It was exactly as mothers held their newborn infants, and Sam wondered if it was instinctual to all cultures and all women.

_~You should be glad,~ _she said to Jolinar. _~She's hardly talkative.~_

_*She must come to grips with her escape before she lets herself go,* _said Jolinar less optimistically. _*At this moment she is cautious, but it will be healthy for her to talk later. Only, not with me.*_

_~Does Martouf do that, help hosts?~ _asked Sam. _~He seems to be, well, nurturing.~_

_*Martouf does whatever the Council demands,* _said Jolinar. _*Ambassador, statesman, tour guide, occasionally operative.*_

_~And you aren't proud of that,~ _said Sam.

_*It is not what I consider a most efficient life, but I do not judge,* _said Jolinar.

_~Except you do, of course,~ _said Sam.

Jolinar did not answer.

ooooooo

"Dr. Lee, please sit down," said Daniel, standing up as the next scientist came in. Lee looked around surreptitiously at Daniel's lab, apparently unappreciative of archaeology in general.

"I don't really understand the point of this interview," said Lee, sitting across from Daniel at the cluttered desk. "I don't think I'm team material; I mean, off-world, someday maybe, but I don't see that any time soon."

"Well, we'll see," said Daniel.

Lee was the fourth one today, and unfortunately the most enthusiastic. Daniel had very little idea that doctors of the hard sciences considered themselves above people like him, and even less idea that they considered field work to be a waste of time. Now he knew, and his day was considerably worse than his predicted outlook.

"That's very interesting," said Daniel, cutting Lee short as he continued explaining his projects at the SGC. "But do you know anything about the Stargate?"

"Well, no," said Lee, blinking. "We don't have a good way to study it other than technical notes, which as you know are nothing compared to the real thing, but that's being used on a regular basis."

The interview went on from there, but it was just courtesy.

"Dr. Felger, please sit down," said Daniel when Lee left.

"Dr. Jackson, so nice to meet you!" said Felger, coming in and reaching out to shake Daniel's indicatory hand.

"Thanks," said Daniel, shaking his head a little at the off-put. Well, at least there wasn't disdain.

"I'm so sorry about what happened, we all are in the research department," said Felger, leaning forward. "It's all so terrible, and not just because Captain Carter was such a genius."

"Yes, well, that's very nice but we're not here to talk about that," said Daniel, taking a deep breath.

"Yes, this is about the team," said Felger, nodding again.

"Have you ever been off-world?" asked Daniel.

"No, there hasn't been anything of my specialty."

"What is that, exactly?" asked Daniel.

"Um," said Felger, stalling a bit. "Well, I do a lot with alien technology, but not really in any one area..."

Daniel looked at his personnel file. "You haven't had a successful experiment?"

"Well, you could put it that way," said Felger. "I've had some small successes, but all my major projects have been cut short—waste of resources, time, those are the usual excuses."

"Hmm," said Daniel.

When Daniel finally convinced Felger that the interview was over, he had to admit to himself that it wasn't much better than before. Felger was enthusiastic, but terribly unqualified, and generally clueless. Even had he been right about his scientific prestige, too, Teal'c and Jack would have never let him live beyond a day with that kind of personality.

Sighing, Daniel took a long sip of coffee and waited for the last applicant.

"Dr. Mckay, please sit down," said Daniel.

"Will this take long?" the man asked as he gingerly sat on Daniel's well-worn chair. "I have a project going and I don't want to let it sit."

"Of course," said Daniel.

"Well, just so you know straight off," said Mckay, just as Daniel was opening his mouth to ask the first question, "I didn't apply myself for this, it was sort of mandatory for all the qualified people in my department."

Daniel nodded, recovering from the first snag. "So you don't want to be on a team?"

"Of course not," said Mckay with a knowing smile. "And lose my time for research, be put into danger on a regular basis? What scientist would?" He stumbled over himself at Daniel's look and added: "Not that I'm saying anything about Dr. Carter, of course, it's just..."

"Yes, I know," said Daniel. He picked up the file and looked at it. "How set against being on a team are you?"

"I've no real objection to going offworld, so long as it's MALP approved and accompanied by soldiers," said Mckay.

"Marines," corrected Daniel.

"Military, whatever," said Mckay. "But it's hardly my first choice."

Daniel looked at the file and frowned. "You are the most qualified, though."

"You mean I'm the most promising in absence of Dr. Carter," said Mckay.

Daniel looked up and blinked at the bluntness. "Yes," he said.

"I'm the only one in this operation who has the sort of expertise that would be useful for your team, and the only one whose ideas have consistently been proven useful, I know," said Mckay.

"You're familiar with the workings of the Stargate?" asked Daniel, ignoring the arrogance for the moment.

"I know Carter's notes backwards and forwards, and even have a few corrections for her dialing program," said Mckay.

"That's not field knowledge," said Daniel.

"Field knowledge is easily gained, it's how well-prepared you are that determines how quickly you learn," said Mckay. "Most scientists don't get that."

"Right," said Daniel. God, the arrogance of this man...though it wasn't all unwarranted, at least not that Daniel could tell.

"That's all you have, right?" said Mckay, half standing up.

"Sure, go ahead," said Daniel. Mckay left, and he lowered his head to the desk with a quiet thump, taking a deep breath of the slightly dusty air. Why couldn't the choice be easy? Why did it always have to be a lesser of two—or six—evils?

ooooooo

Sam and Sha're had sat in the same position, in silence, for some time now. Even Jolinar was resting her mind. Just as Sam was hoping it wouldn't be like this for the rest of the trip, there was a sudden jerk and the stars appeared again.

"Wait, that wasn't supposed to happen," said Sam, standing up and mentally cursing herself for jinxing the situation.

_*Here, let me,* _said Jolinar, taking control.

_~We're out of hyperspace,~ _said Sam.

_*I don't need your commentary to know that,_* said Jolinar, flipping quickly through the different maintenance screens.Everything would have appeared in order, just the ship flying steadily through space, had they meant to stop here. _*This is a mistake.*_

_~Sabotage?~ _asked Sam.

_*Jaffa do not think that way, neither does Apophis,* _answered Jolinar. _*No, this must be an error.*_

_~But that doesn't seem like the Goa'uld either,~ _said Sam.

_*I know, but what other explanation have we?*_

_~One thing about scientists, Jolinar,~_ said Sam. _~We don't just look at the apparent explanations.~_

"Your ship is damaged?" asked Sha're, who had been watching the visual clues for the internal conversation in silence.

"Unlikely," said Jolinar, and Sha're sat back swiftly at the change in the voice.

_~Introduce yourself,~ _said Sam.

"I am Jolinar of Malkshur," said Jolinar, glancing to Sha're and giving a short nod. "Unfortunately this situation is not one for small talk. You can keep yourself out of trouble, I assume." She looked back to the screen, mouth hardening as the results were unsatisfactory.

_~Well, what does that mean?~ _asked Sam. _~Talk to me.~_

_*It will not help the situation,* _said Jolinar.

_~It will do everything but hurt, unless you are too weak to take even minor questioning,~ _said Sam.

_*The systems are in order, the equipment was fresh from the fields, all necessities are in full supply. It is an anomaly, and yet I cannot jump back.*_

_~We can't jump?~ _asked Sam.

_*If we had, I should have been long gone,* _said Jolinar.

_~Wait,~_ said Sam. _~Look up.~_

Jolinar looked up and her mouth turned down.

_~Okay, so the sensors aren't working,~ _said Sam. _~That's a ship, right?~_

_*A hatak,* _said Jolinar. _*And we are orbiting a planet. This is even less good.*_

"Have you come to deliver me to your lord?" asked Sha're strongly, her eyes dark in what appeared to be anger.

"Of course not!" said Jolinar.

"Then this is a Tok'ra ship we are approaching?" Sha're continued.

"No," said Jolinar. _*We are indeed approaching it, and yet all the screens read normal.*_

_~They're computer systems, they can be hacked,~ _said Sam. _~We should go to the manual controls.~_

_*What could be the purpose of a hack?* _asked Jolinar. _*Different explanations are only worthy if they have some reason behind them.*_

The console beeped, and a screen appeared to mask the sky. A bearded face materialized, satisfied but still threatening.

"Ship of the fool Apophis," he said, in a smooth but derisive voice. "Your master has failed you, and you will not show any resistance if you value your lives. Be wise—your god Ba'al will be kind to those who submit to his power." And the message ended.

Jolinar swore harshly, out loud.

_~Okay, Ball?~ _asked Sam.

_*He must have infiltrators among Apophis' servants,* _said Jolinar. _*He is a Lord more fond of victory without physical force, and I should have guessed it was his doing.*_

_~So, situation worse?~ _Jolinar's lack of answer was enough for Sam. _~Okay, you need to get me to the systems. I assume you know how to work them?~_

_*I have very little knowledge, but Ba'al will not expect any knowledge of anyone on this ship,* _said Jolinar. She hurried out and to the control room, leaving Sha're behind. Opening a panel on the wall, she revealed colored cylindrical glass pieces. _*Crystal technology,* _said Jolinar. She opened her mind and flashes of picture and instruction went before Sam's eyes.

_~Okay, okay,_~said Sam, digesting and trying to remember it all. _~The system design isn't entirely foreign; the same intuitive placement should help the gaps in your knowledge. We just need to jump to hyperspace, right?~_

_*No,* _said Jolinar. _*That is unlikely to be achieved. Instead, we must restore the systems. The calibrations will be basic, but I can ring us—*_

_~Where?~ _asked Sam. _~The ship?~_

_*I should be able to reach the planet,* _said Jolinar. _*I do not think it is one of Ba'al's worlds—merely a place for him to await his bait.*_

_~So it may not have a Stargate,~ _said Sam. _~Bad idea.~_

_*It is more likely than not to have one,* _said Jolinar.

_~Hyperspace is safe,~ _said Sam.

_*You are unfamiliar with the systems, and it is putting all our options on one slight chance.* _

_~All our eggs in one basket.~_

_*Whatever. If we fail, we fail entirely.*_

_~Where you prefer to take a more open option that is yet without an obvious solution.~_

_*Who has survived longer in the world?*_

Sha're appeared at the door, cradling her belly. "We are almost drawn into the ship."

_~Wait, why haven't any Jaffa ringed aboard?~ _asked Sam. _~Shouldn't that be a priority?~_

_*The system is definitely down. Ba'al prefers that we not escape, and is certain that his operatives could install the simple sabotage, and that it would be effective.*_

"Are you in need of assistance?" asked Sha're.

"You are not suspicious of our motives anymore," said Jolinar, looking to her. "Good—Samantha was sure that you were sensible. But there is nothing for you to do but wait."

_~Fine, I will restart the system,~ _said Sam.

"Go to the ring transport and await us there," commanded Jolinar, then gave Sam her body back.

Sam would have reassured Sha're, but the woman was nothing if not sure when her mind was made up, and was already out of the room. Sam thought for a moment of what Jolinar had showed her, looked over the crystals, compared the two, and made her choice. It was a guess, definitely, but by process of elimination there was a good margin for error. The first crystal failed to do it, but the second one worked. Everything went dark, and as she felt for the spot and put it back, she knew from Jolinar's silence that it had worked. The crystal went back, and she pushed the panel back and ran down the hall to join Sha're.

"We are going to the planet?" asked Sha're.

"Good guess," said Sam. Jolinar showed her the combination, and she punched in the numbers. "Let's hope this works!" she said, leaping into the circle and putting an arm around Sha're.

The light flashed, and then there were trees and the ruins of what was probably a temple. No Jaffa—not yet.

_*Ba'al will know that his plan has failed, but it may take him a little while to know why and how,* _said Jolinar. _*Hope that we find the gate before he dials it to stop us.*_

"You can walk?" asked Sam out loud.

"But not run," said Sha're, nodding.

"Okay, let's go," said Sam

She took the stone path from the ruins, leading Sha're with a supporting arm. It was overgrown, but the stones were well placed, and they could move at a quick pace. Sha're was breathing somewhat heavily, but her firm muscles had not been entirely atrophied as host to a lazy Goa'uld, and with her life on the line she would not complain. Sam was glad for Daniel at this moment, that he had such a strong companion. No wonder he had held such hope for her.

Above them, the planet was outlined by grey and dusky reflected light from a setting sun, and the canopy of leaves dappled the path below in various dark patches. It wasn't exotic, just the usual temperate undergrowth and trees. The air was warm and fairly humid, the scent vaguely herbal—it felt like an old forest, someplace certainly uninhabited. Beyond the temple, there was no sign of life as they headed towards what they hoped was the gate.

_~Do you attract this kind of trouble, or is it just bad luck for now?~ _thought Sam.

_*Neither,*_ said Jolinar. _*There was no luck involved; it was inevitable that other System Lords would learn of Apophis' doings and prepare to thwart it. We were caught up in it all.*_

They turned a corner on the path, and exited the tree-line. The path continued, but now with saplings planted to line each side, and trained to bend over and form a loose tunnel. They didn't slow down, but they could see through the gaps that they were headed down into a clearing.

_*This is a good sign,* _said Jolinar.

A few hundred more feet, and then the path opened up into a courtyard. There were slight ruins around it's edges, but at its far side they could easily see the dark shadow of a ring. And it was not engaged.

Sha're was breathing hard now, each breath passing loudly through her rounded lips, her feet stumbling a little as her concentration was on moving forward. Sam kept her arm strongly around the other woman, giving more support; she was glad for the extra strength Jolinar provided.

A few more steps, a few more half-running strides, and they were almost there, almost to the DHD. Sam let Sha're on her own and ran ahead. Jolinar took control to dial the gate, but when they looked back, Sha're was many yards off. As the gate finished dialing, Jolinar ran back.

Over the crest of the hill, there was suddenly the distant sound of feet pounding through the silence of the planet.

"We are just in time," said Jolinar, taking Sha're's arm. "Come at once before it is too late again!"

Sha're couldn't run straight, her stride becoming almost a hobble, but she made good time. Over the crest of the horizon, the Jaffa saw what was happening and sent random staff blasts across the field. It was too far off, and they dissipated quickly. Sam, Sha're, and Jolinar made it into the event horizon long before they could be caught.

Stumbling out the other side, Jolinar kept control. Pushing Sha're firmly but not harshly out of the way, she pulled the tiny weapon hidden in her gown and slid it over her fingers.

_*They won't see the address, they're too far away,*_ she said, and in a couple seconds the Gate disengaged.

Sha're lowered herself onto a mound of sand, the sweat streaks on her face becoming pronounced as the sand in the wind stuck to it.

"This is Jolinar at the gate," said Jolinar, using her communicator. "We require some assistance." She turned to Sha're. "You are not in danger?"

"It is just fatigue," she said, breathing slowly and deeply.

A few Tok'ra ran up the hill, a couple with weapons drawn. Seeing Sha're, they hesitantly lowered their weapons.

"The mission was successful," said Jolinar. "The Goa'uld is silent, but the host cannot make it on her own. We met with difficulty on our return."

The Tok'ra nodded, and moved to help Sha're to her feet, one on either side. She cast a slightly worried glance to Sam, but did not resist or balk.

_~Well, that went better than the last time we tried to escape,~ _said Sam. _~I can't believe we're back already.~_

_*Did I not tell you it would be short?* _said Jolinar. _*The mission is complete, and now we may finally move to helping you as we shall help Sha're.*_

_~Of course,~ _said Sam, caught a little off guard by the comment. How could she have forgotten?


	12. Adjustments

**Chapter 11 - Adjustments**

Sam and Jolinar went to sleep early that night. Sha're was taken under Larys' wing so that he could check on her pregnancy, and then she was questioned by the Council for any sensitive information Amonet had. Sam was uncomfortable for her because Sha're held herself like the leader she had been, and even her fatigue didn't wipe that away. She didn't know much, in any case, so it was over quickly and she was handed into the hands of yet another Tok'ra. Sam stayed on the edge of the proceedings, not knowing what to do but not wanting to be out of the loop; eventually Sha're was settled down and Martouf and Lantash came to see Jolinar. It was a quick reunion, full of unspoken "I told you so" from Jolinar, and gracious silence from her mate.

And then it was time to sleep again. _~What shall we do tomorrow?~ _Sam asked as they were getting ready.

_*Nothing,* _said Jolinar. _*At least, not for a good portion of the day; I do not think my compatriots will allow me to do anything but take some relaxation, so I shall circumvent their chiding and do it without bidding.*_

_~While you relax, may I ask questions and do research?~ _asked Sam. _~I don't feel in need of extended rest.~_

_*I believe there will be time for such things,* _said Jolinar.

Sam was surprised and pleased by Jolinar's geniality; it was clear that success and a little fatigue softened her up quite nicely, and Sam decided to file that away as an important memory.

But that night she had nightmares of home, where she was living in an alternate reality like Daniel had only recently reported. Inexplicably, she was still a captain but engaged to Colonel O'Neill, and Daniel was trying to convince them that the Goa'uld were going to come through the gate. Teal'c was in the place of General Hammond, but that weirdness only struck her when she woke, and in the dream his insistence that they continue on their original path sent Daniel into near hysterics. Then, in the immediate nature of dreams, suddenly the Goa'uld were on base and they were all taken captive. Apophis took his hand device and slammed Daniel up against the wall with it, over and over until his head caved in and a pool of blood gathered at the foot of the wall. Then he did the same to the Colonel, and she was forced to watch it all, sobbing and gagging in the terrible horror.

She woke up in control; breathless, sweating, shaking. Curling up under the covers, she couldn't stop her aching sobs, nor drive the visceral stomach-churning images from her head. Rarely had her nightmares been so vivid, and never had the environment been so foreign. There was nothing to comfort; she couldn't go up and get a cup of hot coffee, couldn't spill the whole story to her plants as catharsis, couldn't even wait up all night until she could reassure herself that Daniel and the Colonel were just fine. Instead, all she could do was stare at the crystal ceiling. Jolinar was wakened from her distress, but wisely left Sam alone in her thoughts.

Jolinar fell back asleep, but thankfully for Sam it was near dawn, because she didn't go to sleep the rest of that night. Even when it was clearly morning and Jolinar was only dozing, Sam didn't make the first move. It was so hard to remember that yesterday she had been confident and then proud when everything had gone close enough to the plan.

_*You are missing your home again,* _Jolinar finally put in, not taking control.

_~It's nothing, I'll be fine,~_ said Sam.

_*Yes, you will, but not until you get up and live this day,* _said Jolinar. _*You are hungry, I can tell; food clears the emotions away.*_

_~Okay, fine,~_ said Sam. Yawning, she slowly rose from the bed and got herself dressed. By the time she reached the mess hall, she had to admit that Jolinar was right about one thing, simple routines cleared passing feelings such as nightmare-induced fears. By the time she was done with breakfast, she could think about the night before with near objectivity.

Sam loved projects and missions, loved the challenge and adventure of setting out to accomplish something. It was part of why she loved science, and why though she had joined for her father, she still loved being in the Air Force. But sometimes the thrill of the challenge kept her other emotions at bay; emotions like sympathy, love, regret. Learning about the Tok'ra and rescuing Sha're had made her forget that the long-term plan was to get home free. But no longer, and she was going to keep it that way whatever happened today.

She was just standing up when Martouf came over. "Good morning, Samantha," he said, smiling as always.

"Morning," answered Sam.

"How is she?" he asked.

"Surprisingly quiet, meditating I think," answered Sam.

"Then I have no cause for worry," said Martouf, flashing her one last smile before sitting down elsewhere with his food.

Sam had no idea that a healthy happy Jolinar could be so still, so lacking in restlessness. She had only known the symbiote for a few days, but sharing the same head and body gave a sense of intimacy that would take a year in a normal friendship. Before disappearing, she had given directions to Sam about places of interest in the Tok'ra complex. But Sam had a duty first.

"Hey there," she said, seeing Sha're sitting on the edge of a bed in the half-hospital half-guest quarters where she was being housed.

"Sa'm," said Sha're, her smile a little forced.

Sam smiled at the distinctive accent, but then frowned. "Are you all right?"

"If I were left alone, I should be," said Sha're in that ruffled-feathers way of speaking. "These people do not understand such concepts!"

Sam gave her a rueful smile. "Yeah, I noticed that too. What are they doing to you?"

"Tests, all these tests," Sha're bemoaned. "I remember Dan'yel trying to explain such discomforts, but I never thought I would bear so many myself. And so much for the child."

"I guess I had it easy, a back door into being their own and not as worthy of curiosity," said Sam. "You are brand new to them, Sha're."

Sha're sighed. "That is a little comfort. I have been told more times than I thought possible how special I am, how they have never seen a host so isolated. It gives me hope," she finished on a lighter tone.

"Of course you're amazing," said Sam, sitting down across from her and touching her hand. "Daniel analyzes everything and yet he is in awe of you. Have they discussed when Amonet will be removed?"

"Yes," said Sha're, settling a little in her posture. "It is too dangerous before the child is born, so they are keeping the demon quiet with medicine. I still worry a little, but they say it is all safe."

Sam looked thoughtful. "When Daniel comes to Abydos, it will be near the time when you give birth. Are you afraid that they will coincide?"

"Will not you be there to greet him?" asked Sha're. "That was my assurance."

"Yes, but I'm not sure he'll listen to me," said Sam, her mouth twisting.

"Why, because he thinks you possessed?" asked Sha're. "Would it not be equally true of me?"

"No, not exactly," said Sam. "Your—well, your case was straightforward, but the SGC likely thinks that Jolinar was a lying pretender. They would trust that Amonet would not attempt infiltration, but they must be on the alert when it comes to me. In fact, especially if Daniel does not come alone, there is a good chance the discussion would happen after I was stunned and secured."

"But you will try?" asked Sha're.

"Of course," said Sam. "I will see if the Tok'ra can find a way to keep me safe until I can get Daniel to listen—and we'll see from there. I hope you will be there, I know he would trust you."

Then Sha're looked past Sam, and sat up straight, her face hardening. Sam turned around to see a Tok'ra, one that she recognized by face but who was not close with Jolinar, so she knew naught else.

"Jolinar," she nodded.

"Samantha," corrected Sam. She had never liked that name, but "Sam" seemed beyond the Tok'ra's tongues.

"Ah," said the Tok'ra. "I am Anise." She turned to Sha're. "This device is designed to detect the mental capacities of your child, for maybe his genetic memory has enhanced his consciousness."

"No, I will not do it," said Sha're. "My child will not be subjected again—I demand it."

"You cannot understand how important this is," began Anise.

"No, no, no," said Sha're, slowly and forcefully.

Anise breathed out heavily, her teeth probably clenched behind her pouty lips. "The child will not be harmed."

Sam intervened. "Okay, listen Anise; she said no, and she is in full position to say that."

"Full position?" asked Anise. "How can she comprehend—"

"That you are experimenting on her child? It's not that hard." Sam stepped in between the two, arms crossing.

"Very well," said Anise shortly, and turned on her heel to leave.

Sam and Sha're shared a satisfactory little look, and Sam mostly hoped that Jolinar didn't notice the exchange.

ooooooo

"Dr. Jackson?"

Daniel looked up from where he was putting papers into boxes. "General Hammond."

"I've been informed by someone who should know that you are stalling about something, and that I should approach you about it," he said, standing squarely in the doorway.

"Who?" asked Daniel. He put the lid on the next box and stacked it rather precariously on the others.

General Hammond gave a half-chuckle.

"Oh. Jack." Daniel frowned. "How would he know?"

"His words were, 'Daniel's cleaning his lab and no one ordered him to—something's wrong'."

Daniel paused and looked around, especially at the visible layer of dust way over on some Abydonian artifacts he hadn't had the heart to touch. Brushing his hands together absentmindedly, he was without words.

Hammond nodded, saying, "I understood that you finished all your interviews yesterday, but haven't made a decision. Considering that Jack has already chosen one of the new members, a Major Dave Dixon, I think the evidence shows that you're having a difficult time."

"Mm," said Daniel. "You know, I was the one who warned Jack that it wouldn't be easy?"

"I might have guessed," said the general.

"So there I was, all self-aware and objective, and now I realize it was just another form of denial," said Daniel, leaning against the edge of the table. He rested a hand on the box, tapping his finger in a slow rhythm. "Of course, it would have been difficult at anytime," he added.

"Yes," said Hammond, "well, the SGC was not set up with scientists in mind, once the technology of the Gate was understood. It's still a very small department."

"And no one like Sam," added Daniel honestly. "There's one or two that I think I could work well with once we all got to know each other, but I don't think I'm the most difficult sell, certainly not on SG-1."

"Colonel O'Neill and Major Dixon are military, Dr. Jackson; you don't pick your commanding officers based on who you like, and the same is true with your men," said Hammond. "You learn to live with it."

"Live with it, sure," said Daniel. "But we're going to need a team that works well together, and to be honest, Jack doesn't make that easy on the best of days. And even if the scientist has thick skin, Jack'll take it out on the rest of us."

"No magic answer is going to show up if you just wait around," reminded Hammond.

"Does it have to be urgent?" asked Daniel. "There's another few days before our next mission."

"In which there will be paperwork to sign on a new team member, training and outfitting for the new team member, also time you'll need to get to know each other," said Hammond.

Daniel sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"Just go with your instinct, Dr. Jackson," said Hammond. "As soon as you can." And he didn't wait for an answer before leaving the lab.

Daniel determinedly began loading up boxes again, but this time a little more slowly, thinking. He slowly ran through every option, pored over each choice looking for that one gift or flaw that would make or break his decision. And they started adding up. It only took about half an hour to eliminate the first couple choices, and when he looked at the final round, he almost groaned.

No matter how non-ideal the situation was, it was staring him in the face. He knew what choice he would make, and he knew that Jack wouldn't like it. He wasn't even sure he liked it.

ooooooo

Sam was finally starting to see the differences in the Tok'ra hallways, the ways that you could distinguish between them and find your way from room to room. Even Jolinar's simple directions were enough to get her where she needed to go. Every room in the complex was incredibly simplistic, even the hidden closets in the walls containing rarely more than the usual dull content of ordinary closets, but this one—well, Jolinar may not have found this interesting, but she had read Sam's interests well.

It wasn't as large as the warehouse, but the contents were just as crowded and oh so as interesting. Sam stood for a moment in surprise and awe as she looked around—it could have been her lab, had she grown up with Goa'uld technology instead of Earth. Here, there, and everywhere were projects; some were apparently finished, others were in pieces, and still more might have been either for all Sam could tell. There was a wide range of sciences covered, too, at least biology, chemistry, and probably physics if not astrophysics.

A Tok'ra with tightly curled dark brown hair in a halo around her dark face was bent over a glowing machine. The golden light from whatever-it-was was full on her face, but it was plain that what made it look like sun shining through chocolate was her enthusiasm and excitement. She didn't even notice Sam.

Sam walked over, not saying anything in case she should interrupt something important. The Tok'ra, whose host could not have been more than twenty, paused, then gave a wide smile and stood up straight.

"Hey," said Sam, stepping a little closer.

"Ah!" said the Tok'ra, jumping back a little, but with the smile still on her face. "I was not expecting anyone. You are—Samantha, right?" she guessed.

"Does everyone know my name?" asked Sam a little ruefully.

"A new member of the family stands out," the Tok'ra answered. Sam noticed that it was the host's voice both times. "I see Jolinar is staying back. I am Reyfa, host to Dru'ri, and have finally met you."

"Thanks," said Sam, putting out her hand automatically, then pausing awkwardly as she remembered that it was an Earth custom.

Reyfa looked at her hand, then her face, then with an even wider smile she reached out and took it. "This is your custom?" she asked.

Sam chuckled. "Yes it is—I never used to think it strange."

"So, were you sent here for something?" asked Reyfa.

"Not exactly," said Sam. "Jolinar is resting, and I needed some way to spend the time. I am a scientist back on my world, and I think that's why she suggested I go here."

"Jolinar, suggest?" asked Reyfa incredulously, then followed it with a laugh. "You must be as strong as the rumors say, Samantha."

Sam's smile twisted just a little—she didn't like the idea of rumors, even if they didn't sound malicious.

"Well, what do you specialize in?" asked Reyfa, turning a little to right and left, her hands spread.

"Astrophysics mainly," said Sam. "But I've been focusing on alien technology for the past year, of course," she added, nodding her head to what was in front of her.

"Alien technology," said Reyfa, and chuckled. "I suppose your science would be 'alien' to me?"

"That seems about right," said Sam with a bit of a grin. "What is this?" she asked, pointing to the still-glowing object.

"I'm working on advanced sensors," said Reyfa. "This machine collects data from broadcasting points, and coalesces it into a useful form—or, that is what it's supposed to do." The enthusiasm on her face wavered, and she added, "You do know I cannot teach you the details of it; our technology must be kept secret for obvious reasons."

"Okay," said Sam, a weaker smile on her face. "I get it, I'm not sworn to the Tok'ra."

"We wouldn't want to put you in danger of interrogation," said Reyfa, almost with a shrug.

"That's all right, I'm still interested in the basics," said Sam, quickly moving along. "What is this?"

"This," said Reyfa, picking up the oval shaped piece, "is an adjunct to the former project. We are working on getting sensor readings through an active wormhole, to better predict what is on the opposite end of a gate trip."

"Oh, we have something like that," said Sam. "We can send a small vehicle through the gate, and relay back video and audio—it's not very maneuverable, but it functions well."

"Really?" said Reyfa, leaning on one arm to look at Sam. "But that is all you can read?"

"Well, we can tell atmosphere and temperature as well," said Sam. She saw Reyfa's astonishment and continued, "I didn't realize it was that complicated, actually."

"Oh, I'm not saying it is, necessarily," said Reyfa, standing up straight again. "It's just, we always knew what was on the other side, or could guess well enough. Only recently have we thought of making the choice more than a guess."

"That's odd, considering you're so cautious about other things," said Sam.

"Force of habit," said Reyfa, a smile on her face again. "But if you have no issue with radio waves...?"

"No, they work almost perfectly," said Sam.

"That shortens my reasons for testing," said Reyfa, walking further into the lab. "Now, you also created a basic form of a dialing device?"

 "Yes," said Sam, following her curiously.

"And you're familiar with the traditional form?" Reyfa continued.

"Yes."

"Have you ever considered a smaller version?" asked Reyfa, holding up a bracelet shape.

Sam grinned. "Now I have." She decided that she might not come away with a huge amount of information, but this afternoon would not be wasted.

ooooooo

In the spur of the moment, Daniel decided to get rid of some old souvenirs from planets that had looked interesting but proved pointless in the end. It wasn't something he usually did until buried in such items, but he was in the mood for change. Carrying the two paperboxes full in front of him, he could barely see over the top.

"Whoa there!"

He nearly crashed full on into Jack. Pulling up short, his glasses hit the lid of the top box, pushing it askew and leaving a slight but painful indent on his forehead. "Ow."

"Y'know, there's a hundred ways this could be safer," said Jack, taking the boxes so Daniel could rearrange himself.

"What were you doing near my lab?" asked Daniel, rubbing the sensitive spot with one hand and checking the straightness of the glasses with his other.

"Hammond said you reported to him," Jack said shrugging. "And I finished eating and didn't have anything else to do..."

"Yes," said Daniel, taking his boxes back. "That was a few hours ago, actually."

"So," said Jack, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"So," said Daniel. "So, I had Hammond ask Mckay."

"Mckay?" exclaimed Jack. "As in Rodney, as in the guy who was ranting in the mess hall just a few minutes ago?"

Daniel frowned. "Well, his file said M. Rodney."

"No, Daniel, I'm not having it," said Jack.

"Jack, don't make a snap decision," said Daniel wearily.

"Daniel, I heard this guy, I heard the way he talked. There's no way I'm spending any more time with him voluntarily."

"Fine," said Daniel. Turning at a sharp angle, he began walking back to his lab.

Jack, surprised, followed. "What does that mean?" he asked.

"I don't know, what does it mean?" asked Daniel. "Hammond agreed with my choice, so if Mckay accepts, what are you going to do about it?"

"I have command, Daniel, it's part my decision," insisted Jack.

"But are you going to fire him? Who is the better choice?" asked Daniel. He put the boxes down in his lab, opened them, and began putting the objects back on shelves. Jack had a way of making him feel rebellious, even if just against himself.

"I don't know," said Jack. "But come on, there has to be a nice scientist!"

"Who are adequate at their roles, but are not the sort who would do well on a mission," said Daniel. "Yes, Jack, I did think to look for really nice people. Mckay isn't going to be fun, but he's got the brain for the team."

"You couldn't compromise?" Jack said, pushing further.

Daniel held his ground. "Yes, Jack, I did. I compromised a little personal issues for talent. But I could have gone much worse, believe me—in a way, maybe even more, Mckay is just the greatest of the worst."

Jack smirked.

Daniel sighed, saying, "I didn't mean to say that. He's not that bad, Jack, I'm sure. I have a good feeling about this, and I'm inclined to trust it. Please, can't you give the benefit of a doubt?"

Jack's eyebrows expressed dissatisfaction, but he stood still with his shoulders slumped and hands in pockets. "You said if he accepts, right?"

"Uh, yes, actually," said Daniel. "He didn't seem interested in the idea when I talked to him—I did ask Hammond to beg him, though."

"That good of a feeling?"

"Yeah," said Daniel with a half shrug. "We're going to want someone who can think quick and fast, and I don't think his personality is unworkable in the end."

Jack sighed, and Daniel relaxed inwardly. He didn't have anything to say, which in Jack-ese most often meant he was resigned. It could mean he wasn't sure how to formulate his words, but Jack didn't usually care if they came out a little fudged. No, he was being cooperative as he had all but said he'd be.

"What's with the boxes?" asked Jack after the pause, reaching out to touch some of the more oddly shaped ones.

"I was getting rid of them," said Daniel.

"Right," said Jack, frowning, watching as the contents were being taken out of the boxes, not the other way around.

Daniel almost grinned. Messing with Jack was too much fun to be anything but wrong.

ooooooo

By the time Jolinar roused herself, she loudly rebuked Sam for getting carried away and not eating. And since Martouf and Lantash found them in the mess hall, they both forgot about Reyfa until it was quite late—and then it was time for sleeping again. The day had gone by without event or even a high amount of interest.

Could Sam have known, she and Daniel had very similar thoughts that night. Nothing much had happened, to be sure, but they were both well aware that the adventure was only just beginning. Today had been part of the still and the sun, the calm; soon the winds and the rain would begin to herald the next storm. Sam and Jolinar would be looking for a new host, and Daniel and the new SG-1 would meet and go on their first mission. And they were both headed for the same end.


	13. Goals

**Chapter 12 - Goals**

The next morning was almost like one of Sam's memories of being on SG-1. Pre-mission prep, and then it was through the gate. Never mind that she had goodbyes to say, and never mind the desert around the gate and the brown leather suit she wore. It wasn't home-like, but it was leading her home.

On the first of many planets, there was a small party of refugees that the Tok'ra had relocated. They were quietly firm in allowing only certain privileges to Jolinar—the ground rules were to be respectful of their separateness from the Tok'ra and accept one 'no' as a final answer.

"Are you going to die?" asked one of the small children with wide eyes, as Sam emerged after Jolinar conveyed their mission to the young adults in charge of them.

"No, oh no," said Sam. "Jolinar just needs someone else."

"Why? Does she not like you?" asked the little one again.

"Hush," said one of the young women, putting a hand over his mouth.

"It's all right," said Sam. "No, Jolinar and I are all right, but we don't want to stay together forever."

Two of the young women shared a look, and then one spoke, "I know this sounds important, but, well, I don't know about Tria, but I'm looking forward to getting married. It doesn't seem like that's going to be an option—do Tok'ra marry?"

"Yes," said Sam slowly. "But Jolinar is already married, so her next host will be a part of that."

Her companion thoroughly dissuaded, Tria looked possibly more so, but she asked, "Is he handsome?"

"Well, yes," said Sam, coloring a little. "Martouf and Lantash are very nice in many ways."

The two women shared another look, and inwardly Sam sighed. She knew it was a lost cause.

On to the next world, the next chance at fixing this.

ooooooo

"Dr. Mckay," said Daniel in surprise, as the somewhat shorter scientist drew up beside him in the hallway.

"This is the way to the ready room, right?" asked Mckay.

Daniel nodded.

"I need you to know something, Dr. Jackson," said Mckay as they walked. "I didn't want this job, and I'm not sure I still do. I only accepted because these idiot military types don't respect anyone who doesn't carry a gun and go out in the field, and it's difficult getting the respect I deserve. I decided that the inconvenience of missions will be outweighed by the opportunity—that's all."

"Okay," said Daniel, eyebrows as high as they could go.

"So I'm not going to be all gung-ho about these missions," said Mckay. "And I'm counting on you to be on my side if I need to stand up for proper time for off-world science."

"You know, I know and respect Jack," said Daniel, a little crease in his forehead.

"Right, but scientific advancement is more important than personal relationships," said Mckay, a little out of breath as he kept up with Daniel. "You wouldn't let a once-in-a-lifetime event slide aside because he didn't think it was worthy."

"No, but that isn't likely to happen," said Daniel.

"We'll see, then," said Mckay.

Daniel sighed, but continued walking.

ooooooo

"But there are none who are near death," said the young woman, her eyes flitting to either side in case someone was listening.

"It doesn't have to be like that," said Sam in a near whisper. This planet was still visited by the Goa'uld, and only Jolinar's savvy had led them to the small resistance. "Anyone can be a host."

"But why are you not staying? What is so wrong?" asked the woman.

Sam ran her hand through her hair, exhaling slowly. "It's not anything in particular," she said. "Just that my life was interrupted for this, and I would like it back."

"But if I must give up my life, why would I do so?" asked the woman, still holding herself a little withdrawn from Sam and her strange proposals.

"You want to fight the Goa'uld, right?" asked Sam. "With Jolinar, you could do so for the next several hundred years."

The woman wavered, but still held back. "But she would be in my body, in my head? That's not the same as fighting with someone."

Sam continued offering up the benefits of being a Tok'ra, how the companionship was dear to many hosts, how close the two could become. But she knew she wasn't doing a good job, knew she couldn't. She was giving all this up, all that she barely knew enough about to propone—this was not going so well.

Still, even when the woman refused, there were other planets and other people to see.

ooooooo

"Yes, finally," said Jack when Daniel and Mckay finally entered.

Teal'c stood to the side, hands clasped behind his back and quizzical eyes on the proceedings. Major Dixon stood just behind Jack's left shoulder at military ease, which Daniel thought looked almost as bad as military attention. All three men stood lined up, and for the first time since the original mission Daniel felt out of place. He might have to take Mckay up on that offer of a pseudo-alliance, assuming the man could keep his ego in check.

"I see you received your basic set," said Jack, nodding to Mckay's green pants and black t-shirt. "Your jacket and zat are in a locker with your name. I've heard you have no experience with them." His tone was crisp, like nothing he had used on Daniel or Sam—Daniel assumed that this was the Jack O'Neill of the black ops, a leader worthy of promotion.

"I don't see the point of giving me a weapon," said Mckay.

"When you're the last one standing after a surprise attack, you'll want it," said Major Dixon.

Jack grunted. "Major Dave Dixon, this is Dr. Mckay."

"Dr. Rodney Mckay," said Mckay, not anywhere near offering his hand to Dixon. And Dixon looked just as likely to do so.

"These are the rules, team," said Jack. "#1, I am in charge. No matter what your impression of this base is, it is run by the U.S. Military and I am in charge of this portion of that. #2, there is no touching or interfering with alien life or technology, unless you are the team leader. I don't care how cool it looks, or how friendly it seems. #3, there is no shooting of alien life without provocation. Not my rule, actually, but the U.S. Military's. If there's provocation, go ahead."

"But try to avoid it," put in Daniel.

"#4," continued Jack, "we leave when I say we're done. My definition is easier than yours—and I don't care."

"Funny, I don't remember being told these before," said Daniel with an almost pained smile. "But I guess I learned them in any case."

Mckay was tapping a foot and fiddling his fingers. He had actually turned his back on Jack during the rules for a second, to grab his jacket and belt. They looked uncomfortable on him, even after Jack had withheld the helmet.

"Dr. Mckay, do you understand the rules?" said Jack shortly.

"I understand your expectations," said Mckay. "But I assume you know that rules change in emergencies." He lifted his eyes to stare boldly at Jack.

Jack responded in kind, a wide-eyed stare of some disbelief mixed with frustration. Daniel and Teal'c watched curiously, and Daniel thought he could guess what was going on in Jack's mind. Here was someone who was just as rebellious to the establishment, but Jack couldn't agree with him—not least because Mckay's idea of the establishment included all things military.

"If we die because you broke one of my rules in a supposed emergency, I will hold it against you forever," Jack said finally, with a fierce glare. "And it'll be worse if we only almost die."

Mckay frowned and opened his mouth, but then shut it quickly.

"Sir, we should establish a chain of command before it becomes necessary," said Dixon.

"I'm first, you're second, Daniel and Teal'c are equal if it comes to that," said Jack. Before Mckay could respond, he said, "It'd better not come to that, but if it does, I like experience on my side."

There was a pause. Daniel had slipped on his jacket, just to fit the scene, and now they were all in team attire. It didn't look right, and it didn't fit, but at least they matched.

"Okay, back to whatever you have to do," said Jack with a sigh. "Mission in 46 hours, 0800—you know where and what to do, don't screw up."

As they all started putting the extra equipment back, Daniel shot a glance to Jack. He was going to miss the old Jack, he knew—hopefully this regression into generic military leader wouldn't last long.

ooooooo

Sam and Jolinar returned to the Tok'ra complex late. With nothing close to success, Sam felt worn and empty. She had to keep reminding herself Jolinar's description of how much trial and error would be needed, that they would reach their goal eventually, that it was a surety not a possibility.

_~Not exactly the place I like to go after a long day,~_ sighed Sam after the usual set of long tunnels to her and Jolinar's room.

_*You need something other than food and bed?* _asked Jolinar. _*What?*_

_~Comfort,~ _said Sam. _~Don't you understand that at least? A warm soft couch, some old black-and-white rerun, a mug of hot chocolate...~_

_*I don't understand,* _admitted Jolinar. _*But if it is a comfortable seat you want, there is a relaxation room.*_

_~I'll try that,~ _said Sam hopefully.

Jolinar led her to a candlelit room with many beanbag-shaped chairs, if a little more stylish, full of warm vanilla and spice scents, and Sam sighed long and slowly. Jolinar didn't get it still, but after giving Sam control she didn't have to. Sam lowered herself slowly into the deep and supportive cushion, leaned back, and closed her eyes. No Hitchcock, but oh well.

ooooooo

Daniel was surprised at how fast the days flew until their next mission—and how long that mission seemed to take. Ending up on a prison planet was something he expected someday, but being sent to one? Well, in all his naïveté, that had never crossed his mind.

"Of course this happens," muttered Mckay after Jack and Teal'c made a path through the dangerous looking criminals. "It's like the universe is reminding me why I didn't want this post."

"We'll get out somehow," assured Daniel through partly clenched teeth. "We always do."

"So far," reminded Mckay.

Even the cold fusion plant only excited him for a few moments, followed by a diatribe to Daniel in private about how they couldn't trust this Linea.

"You don't have any proof," said Daniel. "And, she's not going to trust us if we don't show any likewise," said Daniel.

"And that says it all!" hissed Mckay. "She knows what kind of technology she has, I can see it, and she's using us."

"Why be so automatically suspicious?" asked Daniel.

"Hello, prisoners?" said Mckay sardonically.

Reluctantly, Daniel handed his insistent comrade over to Jack—only to find that Jack agreed with Mckay. It wasn't too difficult to play up the tentative trust they were forced to give her, hiding their true intentions. And when Linea tried to sabotage their base and failing that, escaped, Daniel had to sigh. It was part a relieved sigh, because Mckay's paranoia had saved them and earned a little of Jack's trust; but it was part resigned, because Daniel knew Mckay would never let him forget that he'd been wrong this time.

ooooooo

Three days later and Sam was about as irritable as Jolinar on any day but a really good one. So many planets, so many possible candidates, and so many different rejections. Sam was nearly able to predict from the first few words which kind it would be.

_~I don't understand these people,~ _she ranted on the way back home. _~What's the main issue, being unable to continue your former life? I had a life, a complex, busy, wonderful one. These people barely survive, living in near-constant fear. Why wouldn't they want to see all that the Tok'ra are?~_

_*You heard them, you know,* _said Jolinar shortly.

_~Okay, so Martouf and Lantash are a bit more to take than a simple loss of personal time,~ _admitted Sam. _~But isn't there someone for whom this life would look like a dream come true?~_

_*Of course,* _said Jolinar. _*We haven't met her yet. But anyone who so hesitates at the beginning would be more likely to regret the choice later, so we have lost nothing.*_

Sam sighed again. They made their way to the mess hall first, and saw Martouf and Sha're sitting in Jolinar's favorite section. Even in the dullish light of the tunnel systems, Sha're's golden skin glowed with the contentment that this time among the Tok'ra gave her. Finding out quickly who were solidly allies, she had stuck close to them and fought hard for her rights, and the rest of the Tok'ra had backed away and given healthy respect.

"Sa'm," said Sha're, catching sight of her and flashing her bright smile.

"Hey," said Sam, sitting down.

"No success?" said Martouf sympathetically, reading the weariness on her face.

"I'd really rather not talk about it," said Sam with a tight smile.

"There is good news today," said Sha're, giving her a kind look.

"Anise was...convinced...that she only needed to do a simple ultrasound," said Martouf, the hint of a twinkle in his eye.

"And it is a son," said Sha're, squeezing Sam's hand. "My child is a beautiful son—oh, I have seen him and he is beautiful."

"That _is_ good," said Sam, her expression loosening, lightening. "Now you can think of names—unless you want to wait for Daniel."

"Oh, do not speak to me of that man and names," said Sha're, rolling her large brown eyes. "He will fuss for hours over sounds and meaning, and the poor boy will be cursed with the result. No, he shall not be consulted."

Sam smiled. "That sounds like a good plan."

Sha're exhaled and put a hand to her belly. "Ooh—he is ready to sleep again, I believe." She smiled to Martouf. "Say to Anise that I knew that without her devices."

He smiled back, bowing his head in acknowledgment. Sha're rose and departed, the slight waddle to her step as endearing as her will to be hopeful under all circumstances.

"She has a most remarkable spirit," said Martouf fondly. "I hope this Daniel is worthy of her."

"As any mortal could be," said Sam with a tired grin.

"And how is your spirit?" he asked, nodding to her.

"I'll be fine," she said. "Jol hasn't been fussing, so I must be doing all right."

"You are accepting her scale of what is appropriate optimism?" Martouf asked, eyebrows high.

"Holy hannah, what's wrong with me," said Sam with a sigh.

"Whatever she's said to you, it cannot be enough to praise you for your fortitude," said Lantash, taking over for Martouf. "You have borne these trials well, Samantha Carter."

Sam smiled. "Thanks—even if Sha're outshines me by far."

"As do you outshine my Jolinar, in that area," said Lantash. "But we may all be glad to be judged on more than one scale."

Sam nodded, then mentally nudged Jolinar to tell her it was her turn. While they shared some sweet nothings, Sam withdrew to run over the day in her head again. Sha're was right even without saying a word, as she let go of all her problems with Anise by focusing on what the stubborn Tok'ra had done right. And though Sam easily acknowledged the achingly painful moments of the past few days, there had yet been those gems. The hearty hospitality of people who had little to spare, the laughter of children even living under oppression, the fire of spirit in young men who thought to fight for freedom—and the knowledge that even though she was stuck here, it was with those who could one day fight with her to keep all those wonderful people alive.

ooooooo

"No, that was the worst day of my life," said Mckay as he impatiently stripped in the locker room. "I mean, it's like the universe takes it as a challenge!"

"Right, Rodney, because watching your parents die over and over is nothing compared to what you went through," said Jack.

"Leave it alone, Jack," said Daniel grimly.

"Okay, but that was just grief based on memories," argued Mckay. "I had to relive my worst nightmare because the stupid alien thought it was a real memory! It was genuine child-created horror, only much worse because it actually came to life! Full, vivid life!"

"Listen, you just don't get it," snapped Jack.

"Oh, as if you do!" said Mckay. "Have you ever been eaten by a giant white whale? Then I don't think you'll 'get it' either."

Jack was within two hairsbreadths of ripping out Mckay's throat for his arrogant oblivion, or so it seemed, when Daniel stepped in. Eyeing Jack to make sure he didn't do anything he'd get in trouble for even if he might not regret it, he glared at Mckay.

"It's obvious you have no idea what grief is, Rodney," he said in a quiet voice. Then with a final withering glance, he walked out of the room.

"Damn right," murmured Jack and followed.

As he continued walking, furious and heartbroken at the same time, Daniel heard Mckay and Teal'c behind them.

"What? What did I do?"

"You have been most insensitive, DoctorMckay—ColonelO'Neill and DanielJackson have lost ones that were dear to them and your comments trivialized those losses. I would suggest keeping your mouth shut for future reference."

Daniel walked quickly on, wanting to escape the others and their words. He thought it had been bad enough to walk down memory lane alone—but he hadn't counted on the power of Mckay.

ooooooo

This planet was quiet, its wet environment only good for a couple things, and so only the property of a minor Goa'uld who reluctantly checked up on rare occasions. The people were well aware that he wasn't a god, but most didn't have enough issues to revolt. Except for one...

"So, you go out and fight the really wicked ones?" asked the young man, Sorac. At this point, Jolinar had told Sam to stop recruiting him as her host and start recruiting him as a host in general—it was too good an opportunity to pass up.

"Well, some," said Sam. "Jolinar does, but many Tok'ra spend more time on the base."

"You like adventure, then," said Sorac, grinning.

"Jolinar does," said Sam slowly, adding, "but I do too, sometimes."

"When you go on missions, are you a small strike team or do you go more as an army?" asked Sorac, earnestly looking up into her face.

"Neither," said Sam, frowning. "The Tok'ra go as spies, and usually alone."

"Oh," said Sorac, his bubble plainly burst.

_~I don't get it,~_ said Sam. _~What's his problem?~_

"So, you spend most of your time alone on missions?" asked Sorac. He glanced down, and then up again, face crestfallen.

_*Good grief, he wants to join the Tok'ra for you,* _thought Jolinar disgustedly.

_~What?~ _asked Sam.

_*Look at him, he's captivated by your face, not your words,* _said Jolinar. _*And here I was thinking he might be a useful addition...*_

Sam flushed slightly, and stammered out her answer. "Yes." She took a deep breath, eyed him pointedly, and continued: "You do realize I'm not a Tok'ra, right? I'm Jolinar's host, but once we find her a new one, I'm going back to my home."

Sorac's face fell even further, but there was a brightness a moment later. "Do your people have a military I could join?"

Sam sighed. This one she would actually have to dissuade.

ooooooo

"Finally," said Mckay. "Three planets of getting captured and getting tantalizing glimpses of interesting technology, and we finally get somewhere! No technology for us, of course...but do you ever do that?"

"Oh yes," said Jack. "Who do you think keeps all your pretty scientist friends busy? Not SG-3, I tell you!"

"They are not my friends," scoffed Mckay.

"We do have a pretty bad ratio," admitted Daniel, pondering. "Just looking recently, we _could_ have had cold fusion, virtual reality..."

"A sarcophagus," added Mckay. Daniel flinched at that—he would rather forget that unfortunate incident. "And now, an Asgard battleship."

"Mothership," corrected Teal'c.

"Whatever," said Mckay.

"We get more than our fair share of sticky situations," said Jack. "It's not our fault."

"Indeed," said Teal'c. "From what I have seen of the other teams, the outcome would not have been better if any of them had faced similar situations."

"That's right," said Mckay, still lit up from the amazing Asgard technology. "We're good, you have to say that."

Daniel raised his eyebrows, looked to Jack, saw his "What?" look, and shrugged. Mckay had seemed predictable...maybe not?

ooooooo

Three and a half weeks. Trial and error, Jolinar had said, and Sam had repeated it 24 times at least. How easy it was for her to be patient when it was science, but each day at this tiresome search was another day away from her science. Sometimes, at her most desperate, Sam wished she could just compromise with Jolinar so she could have one day at the search and the next playing with Tok'ra technology, and so on. But the Tok'ra had been clear, limited sharing of knowledge unless one was committed—Sam had already learned more than was generally allowed.

And then the sight of Sha're, even more incredibly pregnant now, would remind her of all she had left behind. What had SG-1 done without her? Were they even alive? God, how she missed them! And that meant she couldn't slow down, couldn't lessen her efforts until they found that elusive perfect host.

One good thing was, they had recruited a host in general—quiet, serious, not very interesting, but very firm and loyal. Even had Jolinar wished to change genders, she was unimpressed by his personality, and so he was a clear reject. But not for all—it was only a few days later when they received word from a distant post of a Tok'ra near death, and by chance did they have any hope for him? Young Brana was happy to be joined at last, and the Council, a little frustrated at how much time Jolinar was spending away from the field, was satisfied and pleased with her for now.

But proud as that made Sam feel for a little while, in the long term it did her little good. The only thing that helped in that area were Sha're and Martouf and Lantash. The former, simply someone to share some things with that no one else could understand, not unlike Daniel had been to her. The latter—well, that was more complicated. There had been an unspoken agreement that they were hopelessly attached to Jolinar, and since that meant that Sam was right smack in the middle of all of it, there was no point in staying awkward about it. So in between more intimate conversations with Jolinar, Lantash had gotten into a habit of poking at the bubble Sam always raised around herself at those times with questions and even teasing. And sometimes, when he said something a bit blunt or shocking, Martouf would be there with something to lighten the air. They couldn't remove all the awkwardness, but the friendship they sought to cultivate with Sam grew at a steady rate.

There were only a few other Tok'ra that Jolinar ever spent time with, and so few that Sam knew well. She had never had a wide social circle, though, so that wasn't a big concern for her. Or rather, it wasn't when they didn't give her rather odd looks. Every so often, Sam would feel that the other Tok'ra were well aware of her anomalous status on the base, and were both curious and disapproving of it. It wasn't like Sam had wanted to be in this limbo, though, so she quickly pushed it aside and focused on the mission.

Surely any day would be _the_ day. Surely. What would she do if the time came and Sha're was the only change she could show to Daniel? Kasuf, who judged quickly, was now on her side—but Daniel didn't let anyone convince him without reason. And so the cycle continued, frustrating Jolinar, as Sam went from weariness to renewed resolve, back to weariness, and then to resolve again.

ooooooo

It scared Daniel that this last mission he had not thought of Sam at all. Sure, only a week and a half previously, O'Neill being pinned to a wall by a mysterious alien device, leaving Daniel forced to work side-by-side with a more paranoid than usual Mckay, had him feeling the loss keenly. But not this one—it wasn't the usual mission, of course, and Mckay had fussed for a moment why they all needed to go to rescue Teal'c's son. But just for a moment—one sight of Teal'c's determined face would do that to anyone, and Daniel suspected by now that some of Mckay's bluster was just for show.

He had to leave that grief behind for the moment, though, and face another one. Sha're. So certain of success, he had promised Kasuf that he would return in a year, and he had fully meant that Sha're would be with him. Well, an Abydonian year was almost past, and he was going to go back even more empty-handed than how he had left. He hadn't given up hope, but it was still an extreme blow to the confidence he had been building up since Sam's loss.

Sam and Sha're, both lost out there and waiting to be found. Kasuf would have to know that, know how much he wanted and intended to find and bring them back. It wasn't like he could forget about it, even on the most interesting mission. One more loss, and Daniel's entire mission through the Gate would be the eventual rescue of lost loved ones.

ooooooo

_*It is almost upon us,* _said Jolinar one evening. _*All that you have been planning towards.*_

_~And Sha're has not given birth yet,~ _said Sam.

_*Don't veer from the point!*_ said Jolinar. _*You know what you are feeling.*_

_~We haven't found a host, and it's been almost two months,~ _said Sam darkly.

_*I would not have put much hope in something better,* _said Jolinar. _*Our experience has not been more difficult than usual.*_

_~I know, I just thought luck would be on our side,~ _said Sam.

_*Luck,* _said Jolinar, rolling her eyes. _*But if you do believe in it still, perhaps it will show favor to you when you see your friends again.*_

_~One can only hope, right?~ _said Sam wryly.

_*We will survive, whatever happens,* _said Jolinar. _*And if nothing else, surely Daniel and Sha're will be united again.*_

_~That won't be enough for me, I'm afraid,~ _admitted Sam.

_*I know,* _said Jolinar. _*And I won't quit either. I have not failed yet, and I don't plan to.*_

Of all the times she had said something similar, this time Sam most felt like she should believe Jolinar, and yet was most unsure of what she could do. Almost two months gave one plenty of time to think, worry, prepare—circumstances weren't ideal, but mentally, Sam was as ready as she ever would be to see her friends again.


	14. Danger

**Chapter 13 - Danger**

"Is all ready?" asked Jolinar, walking in on Martouf and two other Tok'ra in the small chamber that served as a ready room.

"So it would seem," said Martouf. "Kasuf has unburied the Abydos gate, and we have made contact once again. He will only allow you and Sha're to come through, though—until we remove Amonet from Sha're, he will not be fully satisfied that we speak the truth."

"Old men," said Jolinar, shaking her head.

"Fathers, more like," said Martouf, his hands loosely clasped behind his back. "The Council informed me that they are very concerned with letting Sha're go on this mission. She could give birth any day, and Amonet is only under sedation—they are afraid she will escape."

"That will not happen," said Jolinar.

"So I told them," said Martouf. "They are willing to let you have this last chance."

Jolinar scanned the various items on the table in front of her. "These?"

"Sedation for Amonet, should you stay that long," said Martouf. "A personal shield, should Samantha's friends prove hasty."

"That is all?" asked Jolinar.

"You expected more?" asked Martouf.

Jolinar gave a small smile, and picked the small devices up.

Lantash spoke next. "You are looking well," he said, looking her up and down.

"Samantha is influencing my excitement for this," said Jolinar with a sigh.

"That is not what I meant," said Lantash smiling. "You have rarely chosen such a look."

Jolinar glanced down at herself. "Ah." She had allowed Sam to arrange her hair in Sam's old fashion, and Sam had been surprised at how her hair had grown since she last wore it where the length was noticeable. Also, she had specifically requested a simple beige Tok'ra suit, one like Jolinar would not own.

"You look very approachable," said Lantash. Jolinar grimaced, and Lantash smiled. He stepped forward, putting a hand on her arm. "These safety measures—they do not eliminate all danger."

"Samantha assures me it will not come to that," said Jolinar. "She believes that Sha're will be proof beyond what her friends can deny, and it will be 'smooth sailing' from then on. And I have met her friends before, I do not believe Daniel would pose any danger to me, even if he was trying to."

"Remember that you represent the Tok'ra," Lantash added warningly. "You made a poor first contact—second chances are not freely given, so you must try even harder."

Jolinar shook her head a little, but reached up to plant a kiss on his cheek. "Samantha insists that I should not keep Sha're waiting. Abydos will be ready to receive us shortly."

Lantash wrapped his arms around her, giving a little squeeze. "Very well then."

ooooooo

"So, Abydos then," said Jack as the pre-mission briefing ended. "I miss the place."

"Yeah," said Daniel a little sadly, picking up his papers. "It's too bad you have to go to Washington—I think they'd like to see you again there."

"Well, Hammond says the President has a busy schedule," said Jack shrugging, then stretching and rising from his seat.

"And this is my one chance, yeah, I know," said Daniel. "Teal'c said he'd go with me. Dixon offered to come too, but I don't think I'll need anyone but Teal'c. He deserves a day off anyway, to see the kids."

"Yeah, I'll miss them too," said Jack fondly, resting his hands on the back of the chair.

"You okay with all this, going to Washington?" asked Daniel, putting on his glasses again as he stood up.

"You mean accepting a medal that should have gone to Carter as well?" said Jack.

Daniel nodded, expecting more.

Jack shook his head. "Doesn't really matter what I think. It hurts, but life hurts, and only salesmen say otherwise." He shrugged again, as if that could distract from the dead seriousness of what he said.

"It's 'life is pain', Jack," said Daniel, not knowing what to say and so humoring him.

"That movie got a lot of things right," said Jack without expression, turning to leave the room. "See ya tomorrow, then, before you go?"

"Sure," said Daniel.

ooooooo

Sam and Sha're sat on the steps leading up to the Gate. The sun was high and bright, and the winds were low. Every so often Sha're would sigh, and hold her belly close. They were just waiting for the scheduled time, so Kasuf would know they were not enemies.

"Jolinar told me that they modified the personal shield," said Sam, breaking the silence. "It will shield us both, if necessary."

"Why would it be necessary?" asked Sha're, shifting slightly so that she could look at Sam.

"Who knows," said Sam, shrugging. "I don't think you're in any danger, but I have this feeling that the SGC has ordered that I be stunned on sight."

There was a pause. "Ooh, why did my son not come sooner?" moaned Sha're. "He has been almost ready for the past week, with false signs and all, but he has not come. Why will he not make up his mind?"

"We'll be fine," assured Sam.

Sha're winced.

"What have you decided to call him?" asked Sam, hoping to distract Sha're from the discomfort of a long pregnancy.

"Shifu," said Sha're.

"That's nice," said Sam, smiling. "It sounds—quiet, and peaceful."

"It was not a good choice," said Sha're, wrapping her arms around where Shifu was protesting. "He has a powerful will to live and be free, even though he cannot make up his mind. I will be very pleased when this is over."

They fell silent again, fidgeting a little in the warm sunlight as they waited. It had been thought best by all parties that Sam and Sha're should go a day early, to prepare and so that there was no chance they would miss Daniel's arrival. The only thing that had not been discussed was what should happen if Daniel believed them. Sha're was not freed yet, and would have to return to the Tok'ra, and Sam also could not leave. This was just to begin negotiations, open the door, so was the assumption. Sam hoped they could convince Daniel to come back here with them, so he could see it all for himself, but she had no idea what ideas he had come up with since they had parted.

She glanced over to Sha're, who once again was breathing steadily through a contraction. "You'll be all right?" she asked.

"Yes," said Sha're. "It is only every few minutes or so."

Sam frowned. "Isn't that a sign of pre-labor?"

Sha're gave one long roll of her eyes. "If only, Sa'm, if only. I have been troubled for several days now with such signs, leading to nothing. And they may go on for days yet."

"Well, just to be safe, we'll try to keep this short," said Sam, a little worried but accepting Sha're's word.

A few more minutes passed, and Sam grew even more fidgety. It was almost over, this waiting, and soon there would be even more waiting on the other side of the gate.

"Oh," said Sha're, her face pained. "Oh, they are worse this morning."

Sam looked to her again, face worried.

Then, all in a moment, Sha're doubled over and began trembling. "Sha're!" said Sam, brow furrowing, rushing over to her side.

"Amonet," Sha're gasped, her whole body shaking, a little foam starting up at the corner of her mouth. She closed her eyes and continued shaking.

"Oh god, not this, not now," murmured Sam, worry filling her heart. She reached for her communicator. "I need help, now! Sha're has gone into convulsions, and I think Amonet may be rebelling." Concern all that was in her heart, she held the shaking unconscious woman close to her, rocking back and forth as she waited for the Tok'ra. "This is not happening," she muttered.

_~Why would Amonet choose now?~ _Sam asked Jolinar. _~And I thought she was subdued.~_

_*We have never tried to subdue a symbiote for so long,* _said Jolinar, not as steady as usually. _*And if she suspected that the baby was being born...perhaps she has finally decided her plan is not worth it, and she must try to use both these lives as bargaining chips.*_

The Tok'ra came running from behind the hill, and in a few moments they had ringed down and were on their way to the Tok'ra infirmary, all talking all at once and trying to get the right information. Some were trying to get her on a stretcher, another scrambled for various devices, still another was checking her airway and vital signs, and all were passing on the information in Goa'uld that she could not understand. In a few moments, they were in the infirmary and Sha're was being moved.

Sam was overwhelmed, and held back, watching as things seemed to grow worse. She sat down, wishing to bury her head in her hands, but unable to withdraw her gaze from the horrific scene. Sha're was shaking violently, as four Tok'ra tried to hold her still so she wouldn't hurt herself or anyone else. Her eyes were rolled back in her head, unseeing, and her breathing came in jolts. Then suddenly, she spoke, but it was not Sha're:

"Free me, or they both die!"

Larys and Dorin, the other Tok'ra doctor, shared a look, and then Larys plunged a needle into Sha're's neck. "I think not," he said. "Dorin?" He began gathering instruments and devices in a hurry.

"We need to clear the room," said Dorin, speaking mostly to Sam. "Amonet will try to kill the child, so we must induce labor and hope that she will not kill the host instead. Time is of the essence."

Sam nodded, unable to speak, and let herself be ushered out of the room. Sitting outside the door, Jolinar silently trying to provide moral support, she waited. There was no window, no observation room, and not even sounds could be heard. She was in the dark both literally and figuratively. A few minutes later and Martouf and Lantash joined her, having come with all the speed they could. Sitting down next to her, they said nothing but put an arm on her shoulder. Accepting the comfort, Sam leaned on theirs.

"I thought we had planned for everything," she said after a moment. "I thought luck was going to be on our side."

"Maybe it still is," said Martouf quietly.

"I thought that before, but every step seems to prove that thought false," she said.

"You found Sha're and made it safely here, did you not?" asked Martouf.

"Yes, well maybe it was some elaborate plan to build up my hope so it could all crash down," muttered Sam.

Martouf squeezed her shoulder gently. "Larys and Dorin are the best we have to offer, and they are determined to save both lives. I do not believe today will end in tragedy."

"And tomorrow? How can I go alone?" said Sam. "How can I face—"

"Don't worry about tomorrow," said Martouf. "Come, you should eat or drink something, you look very pale."

"I want to stay here," said Sam, resolutely.

"Very well," said Martouf, shifting his arm and standing up. "I will bring you something, then."

Sitting alone, Sam stared at the crystals on the tunnel wall, and felt their contours beneath her fingers on the bench where she sat, overanalyzing their simplicity in a vain attempt to focus. When Martouf brought back a warm tea-like drink a little later, she didn't feel better, but at least it gave her something mundane to do and so she was grateful. Jolinar wasn't speaking and neither was Martouf, and Sam didn't know if she was frustrated or appreciative with them both. Martouf eventually left to inform Kasuf of a delay, keeping the details secret for the time. But whatever was going on behind those closed doors, it was urgent enough that no one sent any word in three hours.

Sam had started to feel guilty just as she realized she had not worried like this for Sha're all those times when she was a prisoner of the Goa'uld, and now was in this position only because of Sam. To be sure, it was to save Sha're and Shifu from the Goa'uld, but if they both died—or worse, if only Shifu died—would Sha're not feel at least the same guilt that Sam would? She held onto Martouf, willing herself not to think of all that was going wrong. Sha're would survive, Shifu would survive, they would make it home, it would all work out.

Finally, after Sam had dozed off and the next few hours had flown by, the door opened and Dorin came out. Sam jerked awake and rose to meet her.

"The situation is very grave, but under control," she said quietly. "We induced Sha're's labor, but the stress her body was under made it a very difficult process, and it required a great deal of help. Amonet made a last stand and tried to poison them both, and we had to hastily remove her without much sedation. We think she developed a significant tolerance to it over the past weeks. Currently, the child is under intensive care at the moment, and so is Sha're, but the odds of their healthy survival are too ever-changing to determine. I must return immediately."

She did not wait for an answer, but moved to leave.

"Wait," said Sam, stretching out her hand. "Thank you."

Dorin nodded once, and quickly returned into the infirmary.

Sam sat back down with a long sigh, and put her face in her hands. "God," she murmured.

It was still going to be a long wait through that day.

ooooooo

From a deep recess in his lab, Daniel had unearthed his old Abydonian robes. Despite his instincts, he had not touched or cleaned them since the day he returned, and it was unfortunately obvious. Abydos had always signified something more tangible and real than his old world, and he hadn't wanted to sully it with the sharp scent of laundry detergent, or even the absence of scent from dry cleaning. Besides, how was he going to explain _that_ to the dry cleaning lady?

No, for a moment, Daniel buried himself in the pungent scent—full of sand, oils, spices, and simply-made soap. He could even imagine, closing his eyes, that he could sense Sha're. But it was imagination only, and he didn't want to think on that scene. It would be nice to wear these robes once again, and he added, sobering, to remind him of all that he and Sha're had fought for.

"Hey there, that looks interesting," said Dave Dixon, walking past the lab and halting. "That's from Abydos, right?"

"Yes," said Daniel, looking at his teammate. "I'll be wearing it tomorrow, and I thought it should air out a little."

"Do I want to know why that's so important?" asked Dixon.

Daniel shook his head with a slight, weary smile. "You're out of uniform," he commented.

"Yes, I am," said Dixon with a smile, leaning against the doorframe. "Colonel O'Neill authorized my day off, and I'm off to see the wife and ankle-biters."

"I still haven't met your family," said Daniel, letting the robes hang limply in his hands. "How many kids do you have?"

"Three," said Dixon with a slight flinch. "But you don't want to see them—all whining and drooling and jumping on the furniture."

Daniel shrugged. "I don't mind. Maybe we should get the team together sometime." 

"You all don't have families though," said Dixon frowning, "so wouldn't that be—uncomfortable? And can Teal'c come off base?"

"I think you'd be surprised," said Daniel to the first question. "I don't know about Teal'c; I'll have to give it more thought."

"I'm not sure if my family deserves to be subjected to Mckay, though, to be honest," said Dixon, his arms lightly crossing across his chest. "What's he doing tomorrow anyway?"

"Back to his old haunting grounds, so I hear," said Daniel, laying the robes out on his desk now since the magic had come and gone. "Research and development."

"Cool," said Dixon without inflection. "I guess I'll see you in a couple days then, right? Colonel O'Neill will kill me if you get into trouble and I wasn't there, so keep sharp!"

"Right," said Daniel. "Keep sharp for the people who've been waiting anxiously for my return...I may have poor news, but there's no danger, really."

"Well, with two members, this is an SG-1 mission, and you know what that means," said Dixon with a significant look, lightly tapping the doorframe as he stood up straight again.

"I'll be fine," said Daniel, nodding.

Dixon gave him a half smile, then continued on his way.

Daniel was alone again, but it wasn't such a melancholy alone-ness now—Daniel liked Dixon because he made everything practical without descending to the depths of Jack's cynicism. Those two were similar, but Dixon had enough cheer in his life to keep him from the bitterness. Daniel understood Jack and liked him when thing were going well, but he preferred Dixon when things started going south. And especially when that meant that Jack was stuck with Rodney...not that Daniel was evil or anything, but as his two most frustrating teammates, he appreciated that they spent many of their irritant times on each other instead of him.

But now, Dixon's mere presence had reminded him that this wasn't a final farewell, and there was no need yet to get mournful. He gave a fond smile, and smoothed out a wrinkle on his robes. He'd leave work early today, to clear his mind as much as possible of the mission tomorrow—maybe think about talking to Mrs. Dixon about a team get-together.

ooooooo

Sam had no such calm presence of mind. Since Dorin's first and only report, almost three more hours had wasted by and had she been less weary, she might have started to go mad. While Martouf had been content for a long time to sit by her and be silent support, Lantash eventually grew fed up and came forth. Telling Sam firmly that she was doing no one good, he demanded that she go to someplace else to wait, preferably the mess hall so that she could eat and renew her strength. At that point Jolinar had also finally weighed in with her own support of that plan, and before Sam knew it she was sitting with a plateful of food. She nibbled at it for some time, eventually clearing most of the plate, and tried to rest her mind from the constant wearying. Had she not fallen asleep earlier, she would have welcomed some rest now—emotional weariness was even worse than physical.

"You know what really frustrates me," she finally burst out, surprising Martouf into sudden alertness.

"Feeling a little better?" he asked.

Sam had to admit her mind was feeling sharper after the food, but not out loud. "No. This base, it holds hundreds of Tok'ra, right?"

Martouf nodded.

"Then why don't they communicate and interact like a town?" asked Sam, glancing around the room at the various figures, coming and going with trays and dishes and objects related to their work. "One of their 'guests' is dying as we speak, and not one of them seems to have noticed. And before all this, I only met a few face to face, and many of the meetings were of my or Jolinar's initiation."

"Do you feel abandoned?" asked Martouf, concerned.

"I don't know," said Sam. "It's just—maybe I was expecting too much." She poked at the rest of her food with the usual two-pronged fork.

"Has not Jolinar taught you that we are a reserved people?" said Martouf, smiling comfortingly. "We have such a long time in this universe that personal matters can be readily pushed to the side for urgent business, and there is much urgent business going on. Trust me, they are all worried for Sha're's plight, those that know, but do not think it a proper use of their time to commiserate. Were you to stay longer, you might come to see the logic behind this."

Sam sighed, but it wasn't in frustration. Not entirely. She added after a moment, "Speaking of Jolinar...I am not sure she hears me now. Am I so irritating to her?"

"Oh no," said Martouf, his brow creasing. "Oh no, Samantha, it is not you. Our Jolinar rarely grieves or shows worry openly; if she knows it will be hard on her, she withdraws. I would also suspect she has grown attached to Sha're through you, and that she is still feeling the loss of our Rosha as well."

"Oh," said Sam, mollified. "I see." The mess hall had been specifically designed to muffle sound, but it had never been so quiet as now, when the day had worn on and there were only a couple others still in it. The artificial lighting had been softened, leaving mostly the natural glow of the crystal structure.

"Samantha?"

Sam jumped a little at the voice directly behind her, and then again to turn and see if it was Dorin. It was.

"The worst is over," said Dorin with a weary content on her face, standing with shoulders a little more hunched than most of the dignified Tok'ra ever allowed.

Sam exhaled slowly, and brushed a hand through her hair in relief.

"Sha're is very weak, and is unconscious at the moment," continued Dorin. "But though her vitals are weak, she is responding if but slowly to our healing. Her child, as well, is doing better—he has a strong spirit for life."

"And Amonet?" asked Sam.

"We are certain that there is nothing left of her," said Dorin firmly. "Nothing but memories, and that we cannot help."

"May I see them?" asked Sam, standing up anxiously.

"I do not think that would be wise," said Dorin with a slight frown, putting out a hand. "Sha're does not appear well at all, and you have a mission tomorrow that should be undertaken with the utmost confidence. I would not want that thought in your mind as you strove to negotiate."

Sam looked pained, but gave a short nod. "You'll keep me in the loop if there's any further development?"

"Of course," said Dorin. "You are, as far as the Tok'ra are concerned, her next of kin. But there should be nothing but improvement from henceforth." She bowed to Sam, and then gave a look to Martouf before exiting the room.

"That did me good to hear," said Sam with a breathy, relieved laugh, taking her seat again.

"I am very glad for all of you," said Martouf, touching her hand gently. "I do not know how difficult it would have been had anything else befallen."

"But she was right, I have to think about Daniel and Kasuf," said Sam, growing very serious again, her face darkly thoughtful. "I know Kasuf will support me, but I will have nothing for Daniel—I cannot say anything he would believe, and he wouldn't come here to see it for himself."

"Would my presence help in any way?" asked Martouf.

"No, I don't think so," said Sam. "He'd only think you were somehow controlling or influencing me, which he may think anyway. But if I go alone, if Kasuf is there to swear that Sha're was willingly in my company, that may be enough." She sighed again. "It's just going to be ten times more difficult."

"We have the greatest trust in you," said Martouf, smiling again. "And I am sure that Jolinar will be there to support you fully."

_*Of course,* _came Jolinar's sound, half sulky.

Sam's heart quickened a little. _~You're all right, then?~_

_*I am now,* _said Jolinar. _*But I was not so far gone before.*_

"She is back?" guessed Martouf from Sam's face.

"Yes," said Sam. "Things are coming back together."

_*We shall continue with our plan, then,* _said Jolinar.

"When is Kasuf scheduled to report in?" asked Sam.

"We are to dial him," said Martouf. "He will keep the gate ready until we arrive, or until tomorrow's dawn."

"And I will tell him the truth," said Sam, just a little weariness in her tone again.

Martouf nodded, and then they were saying farewells again. Only this time, there was just a little less confidence, and an unspoken acknowledgment that they might not all come out of it alive. Things might be calming after the sudden violent splashes in the pond, but no one failed to see the continuing ripples, and no one could forget that it could happen again without warning. There was still some hope—just a more cautious one.

By the time Sam was through the gate and on Abydos, it was near nightfall. She was tense, as she had expected she would be, only now it was for what was before her _and_ what was left behind. She prayed that she would not receive an emergency dial from the Tok'ra.


	15. Struggles

**Chapter 14 - Struggles**

Daniel straightened the loose robe one last time, then looked to Teal'c. "You ready?"

"I am indeed," said Teal'c, lowering his head.

"Dial it up, then," said Daniel. He and Teal'c descended to the gate room, alone except for the techs. Jack and Hammond were already in or near Washington by now, Dixon was on leave, and Mckay was in some deep dark corner of the base fiddling with a device that might (but probably wouldn't, so he said) destroy the whole world. It didn't really matter to Daniel.

After the kawoosh, Daniel and Teal'c stepped through to the Abydos gate room. Kasuf was waiting, as Daniel knew he would be.

"Good father," Daniel said, coming forward with hands clasped in a humble position. He bowed, and indicated Teal'c. "Do not be afraid, this is Teal'c."

Kasuf did not appear surprised, and shared a few words with Teal'c, before turning back to Daniel. He was surprisingly unquestioning.

"Good father," said Daniel finally, "I must ask your forgiveness for not returning with your daughter."

"So I see," said Kasuf, again without surprise or disappointment.

"I fear that I will be searching for many more seasons," finished Daniel.

Kasuf nodded once, then beckoned to them both. "Come."

Daniel frowned, wondering at all this strangeness but following without question. Teal'c showed no emotion on his face, not indicating if he could read Daniel's, but probably prepared all the same. There was a short walk that Daniel remembered quite clearly, through the gorgeous sand and homey village. Everyone knew why he was there, but though no one approached him they all looked up as he passed with friendly faces. He missed this.

They finally reached Kasuf's tent.

"Here," said Kasuf, pulling aside the door and letting Daniel and Teal'c enter first.

Frowning still, Daniel ducked his head and stepped in. Looking up, eyes trying to adjust to the dimmer light, it took him a moment to take things in.

"Hello, Daniel," said Sam a small smile on her face.

Daniel jumped back in shock, and only a second passed before Teal'c fired his zat. Sam was standing on the opposite side of the tent in simple light tan, but the zat fire bounced off the golden column of a Goa'uld personal shield. She winced.

"I knew you would do that," she said, mouth twisting, smile disappearing.

"How did—Teal'c? Good father?" Daniel didn't know what he was trying to say.

"She is still possessed by a Goa'uld," said Teal'c, his zat still raised as he stood just behind Daniel's right shoulder.

"Do not be so hasty, my son!" said Kasuf, following them in and putting a hand on Daniel's left arm.

"Good father, she is no longer a friend to be trusted," said Daniel, and he could see that the words hurt Sam as much as he to say. "She is demon-possessed."

"Nay, but she can still be trusted," said Kasuf, though glancing quickly to Sam. "You will see, if you put your weapon away." He waved a hand to Teal'c, who did not respond.

"Good father, let me deal with this," said Daniel. The shock at seeing Sam here had not quite worn off, but he could think. "So, Jolinar, you can convince my good father," he said, crossing his arms.

"Jolinar isn't speaking right now," said Sam, stepping forward, her hands spread out. "And neither did she convince Kasuf. She has been much more cooperative than you would think."

"So you're trying to say that you're really Sam," said Daniel, meeting her gaze. "Why should I believe you?"

Sam gave a painful smile, more to herself than to Daniel. "That's the rub, isn't it. See, I was going to have proof for you, as close to proof as I could get, but my luck hasn't been so good."

"Just out of curiosity, what proof?" asked Daniel. He glanced to one side, and saw that Teal'c had barely moved a muscle. The tent was large, with plenty of room to separate them sufficiently for caution's sake, and so Teal'c did not move.

"Sha're," said Sam simply.

Daniel had a little jolt, and he shook it off briefly. "What?"

"Sha're, your wife," said Sam, looking straight at him with eyes that were not soft. "I was going to bring her to you, so that you would know that the Tok'ra do not mean us harm."

"That's an ambitious tale," said Daniel shortly.

"I know—hardly proof anymore," said Sam.

"You—if it's Sam or Jolinar, which I'm not sure—are still so sure about the Tok'ra," said Daniel, glancing to Teal'c and to Kasuf before looking back to her. "But Jolinar promised to release Sam as soon as she could escape, and it's been two months..."

"As I said, bad luck," said Sam, slightly shifting. "Daniel, you have to believe me, this wasn't how it was supposed to be."

"No, I'm sure of that," said Daniel. "But what are you doing here now? What do you think is going to happen?"

There was a pause, and a breeze flapped the tent. "I'm just hoping you'll be willing to negotiate with a supposed enemy," Sam said. "I don't have any other options right now." She stood still, not shifting her weight or her steady gaze on Daniel.

Daniel watched her, looking in her eyes and wondering if he could learn anything from them. They looked softer than when Jolinar had been control at the SGC, but harder and sharper than Sam's had been—and there might just be a hint of desperation there. But what did that tell him? Nothing useful.

"You came through the gate?" he asked.

"Yes," said Sam.

"So I could call in reinforcements from the SGC and capture you here and now," continued Daniel.

"You could call them in, yes," said Sam. "But I didn't come to offer myself up. I want to talk to you, not Hammond—or Jack," she added.

"Why?" asked Daniel.

"Listen, Daniel, I have been gone for nearly two months, and almost every minute has been trying to get back home," said Sam. "Jolinar and I have been searching for a willing host to take my place, and we still trust for success, but that means nothing if I can't get to Earth."

"We're not letting you back free," said Daniel.

"I know," said Sam. "That's another matter. But when the time comes, I need to know that I can contact you."

"You want a GDO?" asked Daniel incredulously, his weight rolling back to the heels of his feet.

"No," said Sam. "I'm not stupid, Daniel. I want a device with a unique radiation signature, and I want a scheduled planet where we can meet again. I choose the date, I send the message—that's all, though."

"So you have nothing else to say?" asked Daniel, thinking about what she had offered.

"Not under these circumstances," said Sam grimly. "Just a promise that you won't leave this situation to chance meetings."

Kasuf had already quietly slipped out, apparently having heard all this before.

"We should contact the SGC immediately, DanielJackson," said Teal'c.

"What about Sha're?" said Daniel.

"Kasuf can vouch, she was here," said Sam. "The Tok'ra and I worked together to find her, and she was going to come, both as proof of my trustability and to see you again."

"So you say you've removed Amonet?" asked Daniel, his face revealing nothing about what he thought.

"Not at the time, no, but it is so now," said Sam, slowly and painfully.

"What does that mean, and why is she not here?" demanded Daniel.

"Okay, Daniel, you want to know?" Sam snapped suddenly, taking a step forward despite Teal'c's answering tenseness of his zat. "We had a beautiful plan, so Sha're could see you again and help me convince you that I wasn't the enemy. But Amonet didn't go along. She and Apophis had planned to have a child using Sha're, and Amonet had to be dormant for the pregnancy, so Sha're was free to come with me. But just as we were ready to come here, Amonet decided to kill Sha're and the child, and right now they're still in critical condition on the Tok'ra home-world. Sorry." She finished with a tart apology.

Daniel stood stricken, not wanting to believe, but not seeing why such a lie would be useful.

Sam seemed to melt back into something softer. "I'm sorry, Daniel," she said, hesitating between stepping back and stepping closer. "I shouldn't have said all that."

"Is it true?" he asked, the hint of breaking in his voice as he still ran over the possibilities.

"Yes," said Sam.

"She's alive, though?" asked Daniel.

"Yes," said Sam. "And her child. Amonet is dead as well."

"Okay, I really need to contact the SGC now," said Daniel, letting the arms that he had crossed as a sort of protection for himself fall to his side. "Teal'c?"

Teal'c nodded, taking one more step forward as Daniel left the tent.

"My son?" asked Kasuf as Daniel passed him. "Are you not convinced?"

"Not yet," said Daniel, not looking back as he went to the gate room.

ooooooo

The ceremony was done, the real entertainment of eating, drinking, and mingling had begun. Jack was off somewhere brooding, and Hammond was making a much better face among the military types. It wasn't as difficult for him, after living so many years with the idea that men were always lost, and so not forming personal attachments as much as he could. Jack—well, Jack got caught up on things a better military officer wouldn't, but a better man might.

"Hey there, George," came a voice familiar to Hammond, and he looked to see an old friend approaching out of the crowd.

"Jacob," said Hammond, nodding. This could go terribly wrong...

"I haven't seen you up here often," said Jacob, smiling wide, a glass of champagne in his hand. "How are things in Colorado?"

"Classified," said Hammond with an answering smile.

"But of course," said Jacob. "And I am glad to have escaped from that all. How's my daughter doing?"

Hammond said nothing, swallowing.

"What, has she said she doesn't want speak to me?" asked Jacob.

"No," said Hammond, frowning as he recognized the brewing trouble.

"She's still working there, right?" continued Jacob. "Deep space radar telemetry? She told me once a while back."

"Jacob, we need to talk privately," said Hammond in a low tone, nodding his head towards the edge of the room.

"Oh," said Jacob, face darkening. "All right, then."

ooooooo

"So Teal'c," said Sam after Daniel was gone. The space between them was the same, just long enough that she couldn't jump him but not so far that he couldn't have perfect aim. "Do you believe me?"

"I am without sufficient evidence to make a decision," said Teal'c, his head tilting to one side.

Sam shifted her weight finally, crossing her arms in front of her. "I see."

"You do not speak as I would imagine Jolinar of Malkshur would, if she was trying to imitate CaptainCarter," continued Teal'c. "Nor are your demands entirely full of risk for Earth."

"Glad you noticed," said Sam with a forced smile.

"I do not believe DanielJackson or your superiors at Stargate Command will have even as much surety," said Teal'c.

"Maybe not," said Sam. "But some kind of compromise would be better for them, no matter if I am truthful or not."

"Indeed," said Teal'c. "But it is possible that your military may not be entirely logical."

"It is," Sam acknowledged coolly.

ooooooo

"What do you mean, she's missing?" demanded Jacob, pressing into the space between him and Hammond where they now stood in a darker and otherwise vacant room. "How could she disappear—and why wasn't her family informed?"

"She didn't go of her own accord," said Hammond steadily. "And she had no instructions concerning situations such as these."

"Are you saying she was kidnapped?" asked Jacob, catching Hammond's eye. "My god, my little Sam? George, why isn't this a high priority case? Why don't I know about it?"

"It's highly classified," said Hammond. "It was thought best that you didn't know, so you wouldn't ask questions that I couldn't answer."

"Bull," said Jacob bluntly. "Where was she taken, and by whom? Are you combing the area for her?"

"We don't know where she was taken," said Hammond, a little carefully.

"But you know who took her?" said Jacob, following. "And you can't follow them?"

"We don't know their base location," said Hammond.

"Damn, you people are supposed to be the best," said Jacob, flinging his hand out in frustration, just the way Sam did. "I don't believe this—there's something more that you aren't telling me."

"Yes, and no," said Hammond. "What I told you was not a cover-up."

"But the context is missing," Jacob finished the unspoken thought. He sighed, rubbing the top of his head absently. "Any way you could get me clearance?" he asked, almost desperately. 

"I'm sorry, Jacob, but that's unlikely," said Hammond, as sympathetically as he could.

Jacob's face went dark, and looked older than ever, long deep lines catching the shadows where they stood. "She's the only kid who will still speak to me," he said. "And I had news for her."

"What was it?" asked Hammond, trying to be supportive of his friend.

"I was going to get her into NASA," said Jacob, a sad half-smile on his face.

Hammond said nothing, speechless for the moment.

"But George, it wasn't just good news," Jacob continued. He took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. "I have cancer."

"No," protested Hammond.

"It's lymphoma, and it doesn't look good," said Jacob, a pained expression on his face. "I wasn't going to tell her like this, but they're pretty sure it's terminal, and it's growing fast."

"Jacob, I'm so sorry," said Hammond with a sympathetic shake of his head.

"You find my little girl," said Jacob sharply. "I'm not going to die without seeing her again, George."

Hammond opened his mouth to speak, but his phone rang then. Looking at the number, he sent an apologetic look to Jacob and took it, stepping to the side. "Hammond speaking."

Jacob just watched, swallowing every so often as he seemed to digest what Hammond told him.

"I'll be right there," Hammond finished, closing the phone.

"Urgent matters in NORAD?" asked Jacob, just a hint of sarcasm.

"I'm sorry, I can't say," said Hammond. "Just—it could be good news for you, Jacob."

"Sam?" asked Jacob.

"I can't say," said Hammond, nodding back as he walked off to find Jack. "Good luck, Jacob."

"You too," said Jacob.

ooooooo

"It's good to finally hear you, sir," said Daniel, listening to the radio that was conveying Hammond's phone conversation.

"_What is the situation, Dr. Jackson,"_ came Hammond's voice, faint and static-y.

"Well, that's a good question," said Daniel. He frowned. "Sam—or Jolinar—wants a way to contact us."

"_Who do you think is negotiating?" _asked Hammond.

"I'm not sure, but I might say it really is Sam," said Daniel carefully. "She lost her temper for a moment, but it was pure Sam, not the way Jolinar acted."

"_So you think she's been compromised by Jolinar?" _asked Hammond.

"It's likely," said Daniel, brow creased.

"_Why should we not capture her, Dr. Jackson?"_

"And do what, sir?" asked Daniel. "If we keep our options open, we might learn and accomplish something."

"_Or make a terrible mistake."_

"Her plan is not any more dangerous than any of our usual alliances," said Daniel. "There's always a possibility of disaster."

There was a minute of silence, but Daniel had nothing further to say. He tapped the side of the radio with his finger, frowning and hoping that Jolinar was not enacting some evil scheme. However confident he had sounded, there was that pessimistic side that wondered if he only thought Sam was there because he hoped so. He had always been suspicious about the assumption that Jolinar was a Goa'uld—he just didn't know what she _was_.

Finally, there was a buzz of static.

"_Whoever is speaking, they are certainly aware of what plan would be most agreeable."_ said Hammond.

"So we're considering it?" asked Daniel, just a little surprised.

"_It is the best current option,"_ said Hammond. _"And there is another reason to keep in contact—I was just speaking to Captain Carter's father, and he has cancer."_

"Oh," said Daniel, caught off guard. "That's—that's terrible." He felt a sudden resurgence of all the sympathy he had felt for Sam when this all started.

"_Yes, it is," _said Hammond. _"Perhaps that knowledge will remind Captain Carter of who she is, if she has been compromised. Do not tell her yet, though, just say that we will agree with her plan."_

"Shouldn't she know?" asked Daniel, concerned.

"_Let us see what she does when she is unaware, first," _said Hammond.

Daniel sighed as Hammond hung up. The simplicity was gone. Sam had been lost, and all they had to do was find her, subdue her, and remove Jolinar—at least, that was the plan. But they couldn't do that anymore, not without risking something, because things had gotten too strange and complicated. It was now a delicate balancing of power and secrecy, with the hint of a double or triple cross.

ooooooo

_*Well?* _asked Jolinar.

_~It could be a lot worse,~ _said Sam. _~I don't think they're going to try to trick me.~_

_*If they do, I have your permission to stun them all?* _asked Jolinar darkly.

_~Yes,~_ said Sam. _~I can't let them get us, not just because they wouldn't let us free until you were dead, but because they'd never believe that Sha're was out there.~_

_*Understood,* _said Jolinar. _*If, by chance, they agree to your terms, what is your plan?*_

_~Nothing,~ _said Sam. _~This is just to stall.~_

_*That is what I suspected,* _said Jolinar.

_~Actually, even now I'm not sure if this would have been different with Sha're,~_ Sam sighed. _~Maybe we could have negotiated her return, and an alliance with the Tok'ra, but my situation would still have had to be on hold.~_

Their conversation stopped as Daniel reentered the tent. Teal'c, who had taken a seat at Kasuf and Sam's urging, though never lowering his weapon, stood up to meet him.

"Anything happen?" asked Daniel.

"Nothing," said Teal'c.

"Teal'c mentioned what happened to SG-1," said Sam. She looked Daniel straight in the eye.

"Did he?" said Daniel, after a moment of fumbling for words. _We didn't forget you_, he wanted to say, or, _Life has to go on_—but one was too soft, and the other too hard.

"Did you speak to the General?" Sam continued.

"Yes, I did," said Daniel.

"I assume the Colonel had feelings on the matter, too," said Sam with a sigh.

"He wasn't consulted, actually," said Daniel.

Sam raised her eyebrows. "Possibly for the best," she muttered. "Well?"

Daniel took a small sphere from his pocket. "Mckay's been working on these." He tossed it to Sam.

She looked surprised and maybe a little hurt that he didn't step closer to her to hand it, but then looked at the sphere. "This was one of my projects, one of the ones I didn't have time to finish."

"Mckay has...different...priorities," said Daniel. "General Hammond agrees to your terms, that we stay in contact only. You can send us the signal as soon as you think you can convince us that you are free of your symbiote, or in three weeks, whichever comes first. At three weeks, we will meet on M4D-495—the address is attached to the sphere. If we need to contact you for any reason, we will leave a signal on the moon near the gate."

"A proper set-up, then," said Sam.

"It's not that we don't suspect a trick still," warned Daniel.

"Right," said Sam. She pocketed the device, then stood there. "We're finished then."

Daniel eyed her, not moving from his spot either. "Are you really Sam?" he asked.

"Does it matter, Daniel?" sighed Sam. "I can't prove it."

"No, that's not what I'm asking," said Daniel. He stepped forward, barely. "If you're Jolinar, you've had two months to force yourself through Sam's mind and see her memories. Sam wouldn't be so cold and businesslike about this, you'd know that. And we saw your intelligence back on the base. You wouldn't mess up now. So maybe you're really Sam talking, making the mistakes." He stopped, looked down and then back up. "Except it's not a mistake, you aren't really Sam anymore."

"What?" asked Sam with a shaky laugh. "Daniel, I told you, this isn't the way I planned for this to go."

"No, but you're improvising," said Daniel. "You're good at that."

"Daniel, stop it," said Sam, a pain in her throat as if a lump was forming.

"I'm just asking the question, Sam," said Daniel, and even his calling of her name didn't give Sam hope. "You're not the same."

"Daniel," said Sam, her voice just a tad shaky and harsh, "you try acting the exact same way after you're dragged to another world, immersed in another culture and had to behave like one of them, and then have to negotiate for your own survival with your friends after another one was on deathbed only a few hours ago!"

"I know, you would have to adapt," said Daniel. He lowered his eyes again for a moment, then looked back straight into Sam's. "It's just—can you adapt back? I'm not the only one who will want to know."

"I'm fine, Daniel, and I will be fine," said Sam firmly.

"Well, that's Sam at the least," said Daniel, ending on an attempt to be light. He sighed. "And, you say Sha're is free?"

"I promise you, Daniel, she's going to be fine," said Sam.

"We'll see," said Daniel, tight-mouthed. He nodded shortly, then turned and walked out of the tent.

To Sam's relief, Teal'c lowered his eyes and gave a farewell bow, and then turned his back on her to follow Daniel. He didn't have to say anything.

Sam felt that it was about time to sleep again. After all the stress, all the worry, all the waiting, and all the ups and downs of today's short encounter, she was truly ready to break down. _~I don't think I can take anymore today,~ _she told Jolinar, as if the symbiote needed to actually have it spoken.

_*We may stay the night here, and return home tomorrow,* _agreed Jolinar. _*We were successful, at the least.*_

_~Yeah,~_ said Sam, her emotions all spent. _~Great.~_


	16. Distance

**Chapter 15 - Distance**

"You did _what_?" demanded Jack, face furious and yet not frightening Daniel.

"Jack, think about it for a moment first," warned Daniel, standing toe to toe with him. Mckay stood off to his left, apparently trying to blend into the background; Teal'c was on his right. He knew Hammond had told Jack something, and he assumed he hadn't blown up in the general's face—hence he was Jack's scapegoat for this.

"I don't have to think about anything!" declared Jack, his hands gesturing violently towards Daniel. "In fact, I rarely do! You're going to tell me what exactly happened on that planet, and you're going to use small words that mean something and not big vague ones that make it seem like you're talking about institutions and not people!"

"No, no, I'm not," said Daniel, voice calm and intended to prickle Jack. "I didn't _do_ anything, Jack."

"No, you're right about that," said Jack. Then he turned to Teal'c. "But you, you had the zat!"

"It would not have been wise to shoot Captain Carter, even had it been possible," said Teal'c.

"Damn it, that's why you shouldn't have been allowed to do this," said Jack, his whole body reacting in his anger and near-disgust. "You believed it! Carter was taken by a Goa'uld, and all you could do was negotiate with it?"

"Come on, Jack," Daniel tried to persuade.

"Don't 'come on, Jack,' me Daniel!" said Jack. "If I was in your position, what do you think I'd do?"

"You'd have captured her," said Daniel with a sigh.

"Damn right!" said Jack. "I'd have knocked that bastard to the ground and brought my team member home safe, and to hell with diplomacy and strategy!"

"And if you weren't sure it was a Goa'uld?" asked Daniel.

"Could Teal'c sense it?" countered Jack.

Teal'c nodded.

"Goa'uld it is," said Jack.

"You're that closed off to any other possibility?" asked Daniel, but he felt he knew the answer.

"What would it have hurt?" asked Jack. "Daniel, what would it have hurt?"

"Oh," said Daniel, fumbling just a little in his growing frustration, "oh, well, I don't know, our relations with a possible new race? Our chance at learning more about the universe, about the Goa'uld at least? At worst, learning a new Goa'uld strategy?"

"We'd have Sam back," muttered Jack.

"We still will," said Daniel.

Jack was standing close, eyes everywhere but on Daniel, hands fidgeting. He then gave him a glance to remind him of how that wasn't a sure thing yet, and turned to leave the room.

"Great, now he'll be off for days," muttered Mckay.

Daniel turned wearily to the scientist.

"Sorry," said Mckay quickly. "It's just—this is a good thing, why get upset about it?"

"You didn't know Sam," said Daniel.

 "What does that have to do with anything?" asked Mckay.

"Think about it for a while," said Daniel, walking off in another direction. He could be as logical as possible with Jack, because he had to, but the fact was that until Sam was back and safe with them they'd all be a little upset.

ooooooo

Sam and Jolinar didn't see Martouf or Lantash when they returned to the Tok'ra home-world the next morning, and Sam at least was glad. She had been vaguely satisfied with the mission until Daniel had gone and shown his true colors. In her deepest doubts she might have suspected they'd think that, but so much that it could be vocalized? It was much stronger resistance than she imagined. And worst of all, she wasn't sure she could dismiss it.

_*I assure you, your opinions are all that has changed,* _said Jolinar. _*I should have noticed anything else.*_

Sam said nothing for the moment. Then, _~Don't our opinions make us who we are?~_

_*You would like to recant on some of them, then? Keep the previous status quo?*_

_~Oh, don't be so sarcastic,~ _sighed Sam.

_*I'm just wondering what you're upset about. The possibility you've changed, or the fact that others have noticed it?*_

_~I haven't changed, not enough to make a difference,~ _said Sam. _~But my opinions on you, on the Tok'ra in general...they'll appear like more substantial changes to people who haven't lived the evidence for them.~_

_*True,* _acknowledged Jolinar. _*So endure your people until they are convinced.*_

_~You like making everything sound simple,~ _said Sam.

The Council did not demand a full report, so after Jolinar conveyed what had been arranged, they were free to go. And as Sam was anxious to see Sha're, they went without further conversation to the infirmary. Dorin was not there, but Larys stood by an observation window, and beckoned them closer.

"She was well enough to move here," he said. "But she has still not woken."

Sam looked into the room, but first noticed how Sha're's face was almost translucent and colorless—and forgot all about Daniel. "And this is better?" she asked.

"Yes," said Larys. "She is no longer actively fighting the poison Amonet put in her system, just recovering from that battle."

"What about Shifu?" asked Sam, looking and not seeing the child anywhere.

"Ah, now there I have better news," said Larys with a smile. "Come, I will show you."

He led Sam into the infirmary but not to Sha're. In a nearby room, though, wrapped in soft blankets under warm lights, lay the child that could only be hers. He was tiny and blotchy-faced, but healthily pink beneath the soft golden brown tones of his skin and with a contented look, one thumb poking out from the top of the blanket to be rhythmically suckled.

"Oh," said Sam, without further words, hands that had been tight at her side relaxing.

"Thankfully, we were able to birth him before Amonet's poison had fully spread," said Larys. "A few hours struggle, and our healing powers, and he was quickly as you see now."

Sam let herself smile, stepping forward to brush the dark fuzz on the baby's head. "This is very good indeed," she said.

Shifu's eyes opened, dark and wide like Sha're's but the expression could have been Daniel's. Sam smiled again, for herself since the child could not see her at this distance, because even though Daniel had not contributed to his birth, this was clearly his child. Or would be, once they met.

"We are only waiting on his mother to wake," said Larys, rubbing his hands together absentmindedly. "And your mission? Will they be leaving us soon?"

"No," said Sam, turning back to the Tok'ra. "Not for another three weeks at least."

"Good, for I would have been hard pressed to allow it any sooner," said Larys.

"When do you think she'll wake?" asked Sam, leaving Shifu's room to walk back to see Sha're again.

"Oh, any day now," said Larys as he followed her.

Sam drew near to Sha're's side and watched her chest rise slightly with each breath. There were small sensors on various parts of her skin, but thankfully no tubes or cords, so that she could have been seen as sleeping instead of recovering. No beeping equipment either—that was something positive to be said for the atmosphere of a Tok'ra infirmary. Sam reached out to touch Sha're's pale hand, and felt a small surge of relief when it was of normal warmth despite the color.

"You'll let me know when she wakes?" Sam asked.

Larys nodded.

Satisfied with this, and with nothing further to do here, they left.

_*I'm glad for this,* _said Jolinar finally.

 Sam was surprised, for Jolinar had stayed relatively silent around Sha're before. _~Why?~ _she asked curiously.

_*Why not?* _asked Jolinar back. _*I may pull back, but I do not disappear. I know her well by now.*_

Sam thought for a moment, remembering what Martouf had said when Jolinar was hidden away. _~You know a lot of me by now,~ _she then said, changing the subject slightly. ~_How is that going to work when we separate?~_

Jolinar paused. _*I had not thought of that. This is such a strange situation...*_

Sam smiled. _~I can see you meeting Daniel or Jack and scaring them with what you've picked up from me.~_

_*You are not equally scared by my knowledge?* _asked Jolinar, a little playfully.

_~Oh, I trust you not to misuse it,~ _said Sam. She paused. _~Should I?~_

_*After all you have sacrificed for others, I would not dream of taking advantage of you,* _said Jolinar firmly. _*You will be well remembered, I assure you.*_

_~Not exactly the legacy I was going for,~ _said Sam.

Jolinar grinned at her, taking control as they reached her chamber. Grabbing a more comfortable and less sand-logged outfit, she made her way to the baths for a relaxing soak. Luckily for Sam, there weren't many Tok'ra there that morning, and if any more had shown up later she wouldn't have known, eyes closed to better absorb the comfort. She'd realized one way she and Jolinar were alike, in that they could not relax until it came naturally. It would have been better to do this before they left, to ease the tension, not after all fears had been assuaged and tension was leaving on its own. Not exactly the healthiest stress management, and yet they shared it.

Jolinar had no desires beyond the bath, but Sam had thought of something in it to distract her from yesterday. Returning to their chamber, she retrieved the sphere that Daniel had given her and made her way to Reyfa's science lab.

"You're back," said the Tok'ra, looking up from her work when Sam entered, but in the symbiote voice.

"Dru'ri, right?" asked Sam.

"Yes," said Dru'ri, coming forward to greet her with a slight tip of the head. "But Reyfa is pleased to see you as well. You were successful, we hear?"

"To an extent," said Sam. "That's why I'm here, though." She held out the sphere. "Did I tell you about our GDOs?"

"You did," said Dru'ri, looking but not touching. "If I remember correctly, they are a code that can be used by anyone—useful, I'm sure, but not secure enough for our needs."

"Right," said Sam, the hint of a smile on her mouth. "These are similar to GDOs, except they are sent through the gate to impact our iris, and the unique radiation signature is tied to whoever holds the device."

"Hmm," Dru'ri said, taking the device from Sam and looking it over. Her hands held it carefully, but Sam could see how her fingers twitched to take it apart. She even thought she could read a bit of impression on her face. "But apart from theft, radiation could be easily duplicated by an advanced race."

"That's what got me thinking," said Sam. Dru'ri's eyebrow rose in questioning. "Radiation is common to the galaxy," Sam continued, "but there must be substances that are not. Naquadah, I know, the Goa'uld also possess, but what I've seen of Tok'ra technology is often different from the Goa'uld's. Could something be made of that difference?"

Dru'ri stared at the device, rolling it back and forth between her fingers. Then her eyes lit up, much as Reyfa's had so often, "There may be something." She turned and made her way across the lab to a cabinet.

"Can I know?" asked Sam, following her.

"Yes, yes," said Dru'ri absently, opening the cabinet and pulling out a drawer. Taking a box from it, she glanced around the lab and sighed. Going to the nearest counter, she carefully swept aside the project that had been there, and set the box down.

"What is this?" asked Sam curiously, walking round to the other side of the counter.

"Tok'ra tunnel crystals," said Dru'ri.

"These tunnels are from crystal technology?" asked Sam in awe.

"Oh, had no one told you that yet?" asked Dru'ri. She shrugged. "In any case, yes, we harvest the crystals off-world and alter them with our technology to suit our needs. Sometimes, though, the crystals are too brittle and shatter. I've asked for the pieces before, wondering if they could be put to some other use. Unfortunately, only whole crystals have the structure to hold data securely."

Sam didn't say anything, but her mind was already in a whirl thinking about how that might affect Goa'uld crystals.

"But, the effect of our technology will still be present in remnant form in these pieces, or so it would seem," said Dru'ri. She paused. "But the Tok'ra have no iris."

"You wouldn't want one?" asked Sam curiously.

Dru'ri's face looked slightly pained, as if she couldn't wrap her head around the concept. But even as her brow furrowed deeper, she had no ready answer. "It is not our way," she said finally. "But perhaps it should be."

"I always wondered why we seemed to be the first to think of it," said Sam.

"Wonder no more, for I can answer that," said Dru'ri, her face open again. "The gates were never intended to be like true doors, but rather like arches—no locks, no refusal of entrance, simply a way of passage. It did not cross our minds that they could be fully like gates."

Sam shrugged. "I guess that's what happens when you're close to something."

"I wonder why no host has thought of it before, though?" wondered Dru'ri aloud.

"Have any hosts had knowledge of the gates before joining the Tok'ra?" asked Sam.

"No," said Dru'ri. "That is likely it." She sighed. "It has always been difficult for us, that our hosts feel like they have nothing to offer us. It is a shame that you cannot stay and share your knowledge."

"I wouldn't mind," said Sam.

 "No, I meant as commentary on our technology and strategy," said Dru'ri. "And unfortunately, the Council would never approve such foreclosure of all our secrets."

"Oh," said Sam, face falling a little as she remembers. "Yes, I see that."

"But now I am curious," Dru'ri continued, looking closer. "Tell me about how your iris works, and this device with it."

ooooooo

Daniel sat slumped in his lab, flicking his pen at his notebook where he was supposed to be recording the latest developments. It wasn't that he couldn't find the words, it was that he couldn't find the right ones. No matter what he thought of, he could see a hundred ways he could look back and regret them. And it didn't help that he kept imagining what Jack would say, even though he would never let the man read his notebooks.

"Major Dixon has been informed of the events on Abydos," said Teal'c, coming in and drawing Daniel from his reverie.

"Was he upset?" asked Daniel.

"No," said Teal'c, hands behind back. "He and DoctorMckay have understood the reasoning behind our decision. It is only ColonelO'Neill who feels hurt."

"Would it have helped if we had at least told him at the time?" asked Daniel. "I mean, I didn't want him to get upset about something where he didn't have a say, but now it probably looks like we avoided him."

"I do not believe ColonelO'Neill blames you, DanielJackson," said Teal'c, loosening his stance and stepping closer to Daniel. "Nor do I believe he is entirely against your solution."

"He just wanted to see her for himself," said Daniel with a sigh, letting his pen rest in the groove of his notebook. "Maybe, Teal'c, maybe."

"He was no less close to CaptainCarter than you," said Teal'c. "Would you not wish for a chance to see a lost friend?"

"But he thinks it's not her," said Daniel, leaning back in his chair and looking up past Teal'c head to the dark ceiling. "I thought it would make him more upset."

"And yet now you are trying to convince him that she is still there—do you not think he wishes to have the evidence to judge on his own?" Teal'c did not move as he spoke, but he watched Daniel closely.

"Yeah, well, here I go again, not getting him," said Daniel, taking off his glasses to rest his eyes for a minute.

"I do not believe it is beyond your power to understand him," said Teal'c, in a more than usually soft tone. "But perhaps you underestimate how deep you must look."

Daniel smiled weakly and put his glasses back on, sitting up. "Maybe. How did you get to be my confidant, Teal'c?"

Teal'c's face darkened a tinge, and then Daniel realized the obvious answer to his own question.

"I'll keep that in mind, Teal'c, thanks," he said, trying to save the conversation. But he knew they both knew which situation had led to this.

ooooooo

Dru'ri was not as interested as her host in open discussion of her projects, so after a while of watching her do tasks she couldn't quite understand, Sam left the chamber. It had passed the time well, but she was ready to let Jolinar have her turn.

"Samantha."

Sam jumped a little, then looked to her left to see Garshaw standing in the shadows, hands clasped in front of her. "Garshaw," she acknowledged. "Do you need something?"

"The Council has been discussing your results further," the Counselor said as preamble. "And also what future awaits you. You plan to continue your search for another host?"

"Yes," said Sam.

 "From your previous reports and from our own history, we see that this may take up many more weeks," said Garshaw. "Would you not agree?"

"Yes," said Sam, a tinge reluctantly. "We hope for a quick success though."

Garshaw nodded twice, then paused for a second. "The Council has a request to make of you, Samantha."

Sam's curiosity was becoming somewhat apprehensive, but she answered, "What is it?"

"As you are probably aware now, the Tok'ra are stretched thin," Garshaw continued with a sigh. "We have never had so few operatives ready on base, nor so many urgent tasks waiting for them once their former one is finished."

Sam began to see where this was heading.

"We are, of course, in a position of debt to you for helping Jolinar survive as you have," said Garshaw, "but there are some in the Council who believe that it would be easier on all if you did more. You were occupied on missions on your planet, were you not?" 

"Yes," said Sam, now mostly sure of the conversation and half listening half running through possible answers.

"Would it be possible for you to undertake small missions while searching for a host?" asked Garshaw. "You will not be asked to take on long missions of subterfuge, but even our smallest task may prove somewhat dangerous. Any answer you give will be accepted, but we must ask because of our need."

_*What is this, then?* _asked Jolinar. _*They wish to assign you to missions?*_

"Just a moment," said Sam. _~Okay, Jol, what's this mean?~_

_*Truthfully—nothing,* _said Jolinar. _*There is, of course, no precedent.*_

_~So it's just asking for help?~ _said Sam.

_*Asking?* _said Jolinar.

_~Begging, then?~_

_*Demanding, more like, even in her soft tones. The Tok'ra do not approve of wasting resources, that is all this is.*_

Sam sighed audibly, and turned to Garshaw. "As long as I can approve each one as it comes up, I don't see a problem. Nothing too dangerous, and nothing too long."

"Of course," said Garshaw, her previously determined face relaxed into satisfaction. She gave a slight bow, and then disappeared down the hall.

Sam stood for a moment, thinking about what she had agreed to. Once she had swore to stay separate and apart from Jolinar's life—now she was taking on all but the whole role. And in a matter of weeks, she would also be serving as ambassador to Jolinar's people. Did it matter that she hoped and assumed it would only be for a short time? Sighing, she pushed it all back, and let Jolinar take over and go inform Martouf and Lantash of all that had happened.

ooooooo

Sam and Jolinar were sound asleep in their chamber when the Tok'ra messenger knocked on the side of the chamber entrance. Suddenly roused, Jolinar sat up and clasped the blanket to her chest.

"You asked to be informed the very minute Sha're woke," said the young female Tok'ra, nodding.

"Ah, yes," said Jolinar.

Bowing, the Tok'ra removed herself from the room.

_~I can't imagine what's going through her mind right now,~ _said Sam.

_*Then we will go and ask her, of course,* _said Jolinar, rising from the bed and grabbing for clothes.

They were both fully alert a few minutes later, arriving at the infirmary. Larys stood at the foot of Sha're's bed, concentration on his face as he examined some data on a tablet. Sha're herself looked little different physically, but her face was shining as she looked down at the tousled head of her child cradled against her chest.

"Sha're," said Sam warmly, coming forward.

"Sa'm," answered Sha're, a little weakly and without moving her head, but happily. "Should you not be asleep now?"

"I'm fine, Sha're, really," said Sam, pulling a stool over to sit on. "Are you feeling all right?"

Sha're frowned. "No—but also yes." She closed her eyes for a second. "My demon is gone, but her stain still remains upon me. I can only hope it will fade."

"I'm sure you'll be fine," said Sam, smiling encouragingly even while her heart felt a twinge of concern. "And Shifu?"

"Oh, it is much better with him," said Sha're, looking down. The baby lay on his stomach, head comfortably resting on her chest and thumb still in his mouth as he slept. Sha're had her arms lightly wrapped around him, just holding him to her. "I was glad that he knew me, and is already at ease."

_~Do you want to say anything?~ _Sam asked Jolinar.

_*I am fine,* _said Jolinar.

Wondering if that was quite true, Sam continued. "He's beautiful."

"I did not doubt that," said Sha're with another weak smile. But then her eyes darkened. "I am not with my Dan'yel now—did you not see him without me?"

"I did," said Sam, wishing that Sha're had not brought that up just now. "But he didn't believe me; we are meeting again in three weeks to discuss things further."

"Stubborn Dan'yel," said Sha're, a slight frown on her face. "But how was he?"

"He looked well," said Sam, thinking. "Kind of sad and worn, but he was very concerned when I mentioned you, so I'm sure seeing you will bring the old Daniel back."

"As long as your 'old Dan'yel' is the same as my old Dan'yel, I will hope that you are surely correct," said Sha're, looking satisfied. She breathed out, leaning back against the pillow and cuddling Shifu closer.

Sam sat for a moment, letting the stress she thought had been erased by just knowing Sha're was all right fully dissipate. Now she had only to show Daniel this future of his happiness, and things would be fully repaired from the disaster Amonet had caused. If Sha're was right, and the memories of Amonet faded quickly—but Sam had no doubt in Sha're to overcome everything.

"I am fine, Sa'm," said Sha're. Sam looked up, seeing the woman smiling indulgently at her. "You need not stay by my side and forego sleep."

"You're right," said Sam, smiling. "And I'm sure you need even more sleep as well," she added, looking to Larys.

"I have slept enough, surely," said Sha're.

 "No, Samantha was right about that," said Larys, looking up then. "You are ordered to rest until you feel that you will go mad with the inactivity." He paused and smiled. "And even then you will stay abed a little longer—I promise, none of my patients have actually gone mad in all the centuries that I have been healing."

Sha're was not quite recovered enough to have a ready answer, so instead she sighed and shook her head a little, resigned. Sam gave her a farewell nod and left to return to bed.

ooooooo

"Yes?" said Daniel, answering his phone gingerly with one hand, hoping the dust wouldn't get it all dirty as he balanced a delicate sculpture in the other.

"_Daniel, what the hell are you still doing on base?" _came Jack's nagging tones.

"I'm going home, just not yet," said Daniel. "Why are you calling?"

"_Just checking—had a feeling."_

Daniel rolled his eyes and hung up. Five seconds later, just as he had started a delicate cleaning, it rang again. Giving up on keeping his phone undusty, he picked it up normally. "Not yet either, Jack."

"_Doctor Jackson?"_

"Oh, sorry," said Daniel, blinking. "Who's this?"

"_Technician Banks. We just received Kasuf's signal from Abydos."_

"What?" asked Daniel, frowning. "That's only for something important or urgent."

"_Yes, we know. General Hammond's been notified, and he says that SG-1 should go early tomorrow and check it out."_

"Yeah, that sounds good," said Daniel, brow furrowed. "I don't suppose it's an emergency—we were just there."

"_All right then, I'll contact the rest of SG-1," _finished Technician Banks.

Daniel sighed and hung up the phone. Jack would have been glad to know he was right, and Daniel should go home and to bed now. It would be an early day tomorrow—whatever Kasuf wanted them for. He only hoped it wasn't too urgent that a six hour delay would matter.


	17. Change

A/N: Hey all! Something came up in the comments that I thought was best addressed to every reader. All AUs change canon, and logically must lead to more changes, etc., like the ripples that spread when you drop a stone in a puddle. Since this story is told from characters' point of view, however, changes to canon will only be explained within the story if they are relevant to the plot or characters. This leaves out a lot of other changes, and several of you have been curious about those in reviews. I have no problem answering those questions in review replies, but if you don't want to have an account or leave a signed review here, you may be confused or think I forgot about something from canon. I have done my very best to take into account every possible effect that all Stargate canon and this AU's canon will have on my story—it is, of course, possible that I missed something (and if so, please call me on it!), but I truly hope that any confusion can be cleared up by simple communication. So from now on, I will put a short author's explanation at the end of each chapter pointing out the changes made. If you would like to know more, or think the change wasn't logical, feel free to contact me by email, PM, or review.

**Chapter 16 - Change**

Despite previously gulping down two cups of black coffee, even though he cringed while doing it, Daniel was yawning in the gateroom. He wasn't the only one—the sudden 6 am morning mission on a day that originally had no mission planned meant everyone was a little ready to doze right off. Mckay was slowly putting on his jacket, his yawn wide enough to take in Daniel's whole coffee mug, and he looked like he needed it. Dixon, of course, was standing straight and ready, despite the continual blinking to keep him alert. Jack, maybe, was the most rested, aside from Teal'c who needed none.

"I really don't see why I need to go on this one," said Mckay in the short space between yawns. "Nothing will be there."

"You say that every mission," said Dixon, rolling his eyes.

"No," said Mckay, but unable to finish his thought due to a big yawn. Dixon and Daniel waited patiently for him to finish while Jack was speaking to Hammond. Teal'c was ignoring them all. "Just to planets that would have nothing of interest to me."

"Like Cimmeria," said Dixon.

"He he, very funny," drawled Mckay, his own eyes rolling. "But what technology was on that planet where we were all nearly mined to death?"

"So how do you intend to improve things?" asked Dixon. "Are you going to travel back in time at the end of each mission to tell your former self whether he should go or not?"

"No," said Mckay. Dixon nodded, but Mckay continued, "There's no feasible way at the moment to time travel."

"What, you haven't built one yet?" asked Dixon.

"But in any case, I know that there's nothing on Abydos," said Mckay.

Any further banter was cut short as Jack walked over, face dark. "Okay, folks, we have a problem."

"What is it?" asked Daniel, feeling suddenly apprehensive.

"MALP is having issues," said Jack. "It went through, took a couple seconds of film, and then stopped transmitting."

"What? How?" asked Mckay, alert for the moment. He took the stairs up to the control room two at a time, and Daniel followed, equally curious. "Show me the film," Mckay said.

Daniel stood behind Mckay and watched. The others were a few seconds behind.

"This makes no sense," said Mckay, frowning, tapping his finger on the keyboard. "Atmosphere readings are normal, no noise to indicate sabotage..."

"And we were just there," said Daniel.

Mckay played the clip again, and then again. "There is no logical reason why this should be cutting out," he said.

"Any illogical reasons?" snarked Jack.

"Yes, hundreds," said Mckay shortly. "Which one do you want me to randomly guess first?"

"Wait, play that again," said Daniel, frowning. He leaned closer to the screen. "I think I know the problem. Look, Jack, that isn't what the Abydos gateroom looks like."

"So, what, they moved the gate?" asked Jack.

"That's not any other place I know of on Abydos," said Daniel, shaking his head. He frowned. "It almost looks like the ceilings in the pyramid."

"Wait, that could explain it," said Mckay, raising one finger and tapping it against the air. "The gate was probably knocked over; the MALP goes through, but it can't fly up and so it falls back and dissolves into the wormhole."

"Why would the gate have been knocked over?" asked Daniel.

There was a moment of silence.

"Permission to have a team of marines standing by, sir?" asked Jack, looking to Hammond.

"Permission granted—we don't know what happened on the other side," said the General. "And I want frequent updates on your status."

"Understood," said Jack. "Come on, team, let's go."

"You don't suppose they were attacked, do you?" asked Mckay, eyes wide.

"No, they couldn't be, no one knows about that planet other than Apophis," said Daniel, frowning. "And he'd have attacked by now if he planned to." But as they all got ready to go through the gate, he had a sinking feeling in his heart that their luck had gone sour again.

ooooooo

Sam and Jolinar didn't sleep in that morning, but instead woke early and went to the Tok'ra gate.

"Have you tried to contact Abydos?" Sam asked.

"Yes, but with no success," said one of the Tok'ra guards. "We tried twice, but the gate refused to connect, Perhaps it has been buried again?"

"Hmm," said Sam, brow creased. "That doesn't make sense, since I told him we would be contacting them shortly about Sha're."

"We will try again tomorrow," said the Tok'ra.

With no alternative recourse, Sam nodded and returned with Jolinar to the Tok'ra tunnels. She would have to meet with the Council to discuss missions anyway.

ooooooo

It was not a pleasant experience, going through an upturned gate. Grappling hooks were sent through, and then one held onto a rope and walked normally through. But immediately on the other side, the gravity suddenly pulled one back into the gate, leading one's grip to be sorely tested. Thankfully, they were all well aware of the life-or-death nature, and no one slipped while climbing up and over the gate onto the rubble. But that didn't mean there was no grumbling.

Finally, all resting by the shimmering pool of event horizon, they spared a moment to look around.

"This is the gate room," said Daniel. "But what's with the rubble? Where's the coverstone?"

The pillars were all standing, the DHD in its place, but rocks and broken pieces of tentpoles and pottery were in piles around the gate and up against the entrance as well. With the sun peeking through a distant crack and casting strange shadows, it looked ruinous.

"This doesn't look good," said Jack, standing up and pacing around.

"Doesn't look like attack, though," said Dixon, pointing at the various piles with his gun. "Too careful."

"So they wanted to pretend the Stargate was really buried?" asked Mckay between heavy breaths. He had been last, but even with help, it had been a strain on him to get out of the gate.

"If someone was looking for the gate with any determination, this would not deter them sufficiently," said Teal'c.

Daniel's face was dark and he didn't say anything.

"Shouldn't we try to get out of here and look around?" asked Dixon. "Where are the people?"

"I think we're looking at some kind of invasion," said Jack.

"Space invasion?" said Mckay. "You've got to be kidding, why? They'd dial the gate, and when it didn't work, why come all the way here?"

"Maybe they don't operate the gates," said Dixon with a shrug.

"If we go out there, they'll see we're different, assuming that's what's going on," said Daniel.

"Yeah, should'a brought your robes, huh?" said Jack.

"Could'a should'a would'a," said Dixon. "Just have to stay out of sight."

"I'll go," said Daniel.

"Dixon, you stay with Mckay and Teal'c," said Jack. "Daniel and I will browse around—no radio contact unless we initiate."

"Yes, sir," said Dixon.

"I will stand guard at the entrance in case of a swift retreat," said Teal'c.

"You do that then," said Jack.

Daniel got up and followed Jack to the main entrance to this room. The rubble was at head height but they would be able to see over it. Teal'c joined them and offered to help them climb without making noise. Daniel, as the lightest and nimblest, not that the difference was great, made his way to the couple feet of space at the top. Outside the gateroom he could see a few tents, but no people and no noise of them beyond sight.

"I don't see anything," he whispered down to Jack and Teal'c.

"Up and over then," ordered Jack. "Keep low, just in case."

From the outside, the rubble didn't look so obvious, and a well-placed broken shade added to the aura of abandonment. Sneaking through the empty tents in the pyramid, Daniel began to get even more worried when there was no sign of anything. By the time they stood on the outer steps, he was certain some tragedy had happened.

Looking down into the village, he saw some plainly Abydonian people and the glint of silver on marching figures. From this distance no more could be discerned; the sky and the horizon were clear in all directions.

"Where do we go from here?" asked Daniel.

"Nowhere," said Jack, indicating just below them. A few figures were leaving the village on a path that could only lead to one logical place—the pyramid.

Ducking back to hide and notifying Dixon, they sat still and waited. Eventually the marching feet left the sand and resounded loudly on the stone steps, coming ever nearer.

"My lord, the pyramid is not presently suitable as a temple or place of command," came a deep male voice.

"I do not want to do anything with it, I just want to look over my new planet."

Daniel and Jack shared shocked looks. That was a female Goa'uld voice if they ever heard one. As the footsteps stopped, Daniel peeked around the corner. Sure enough, they were Jaffa, though with a symbol he did not know. They were standing in two lines, and he could only catch sight of a piece of Goa'uld robes—and then the Goa'uld swept back away from the steps.

It wasn't the sort of face that blended with all the rest; this Goa'uld had chosen a striking host. Wide eyes, prominent cheekbones, a slightly crooked nose, and a strong but sensuous mouth—the parts together turned the whole face into one both beautiful and terrible. After a moment of appreciation at the power this Goa'uld portrayed with not a word spoken, Daniel turned his attention to the symbol on her Jaffa. Who was this?

Before he could make up his mind on her, the Goa'uld spoke again. "Have you selected the young males and females for the mining operation?"

"Yes, my lord," said the first prime. "The rest shall be taken to your worlds."

"Excellent," said the Goa'uld, a smirk on the corner of her expressive lips, her eyes glinting even without the traditional snakey glow. "Lord Ba'al may have thought this world stripped of all resources, but I shall make him a fool yet again. If nothing else there may be some attractive stock for my court. Begin loading the ships!"

The first prime clasped his forearm across his chest, bowing sharply, and then the whole troop descended the steps again. The Goa'uld paused halfway down, casting a languorous glance back along the once-magnificent pyramid. Daniel's heart leapt for a moment, sure her eyes had passed straight over where he was, but it must have been a trick of the light. She turned once again, and finished her magnificent departure down the steps.

Daniel looked back at Jack, who was already simmering in growing anger. "Not what we thought, then?"

"Doesn't matter. We're going to get Hammond to send us what we need to take out this snake," growled Jack, standing up and heading back to the rest of the team.

"Wouldn't the better plan be to rescue the people?" asked Daniel, pausing before standing. "We may not have time to infiltrate her ship."

"It, Daniel," said Jack sharply over his shoulder. "And I didn't say infiltrate."

"So what, you're going to ask for a warhead again?" asked Daniel, jogging to catch up. "You can't do that, Jack."

Jack didn't answer.

"Jack, we can't start a war like this," Daniel continued pushing.

"What else do you suggest, Daniel?" said Jack through gritted teeth, spinning around and stopping short for a second. "You think we can scoop a whole civilization out from under a Goa'uld's nose without them noticing?"

Daniel opened his mouth, and then closed it, eyes pained. "Do _you_ think we can take out the ship? Or rather, that Hammond will agree?"

"We'll see, won't we," said Jack.

ooooooo

_~So, these dangerous missions, that we won't be going on,~ _said Sam, after the Council had given their final decision on where to send Jolinar. _~What exactly do you do?~_

_*Our goal is the end the Goa'uld,* _said Jolinar. _*We keep powerful factions warring with themselves, undermine the support system of minor and unimportant Goa'uld, and look for information that would help us destroy them altogether.*_

_~Undermine minor Goa'ulds...you mean start Jaffa rebellion?~_

_*Their human slaves are much more receptive,* _said Jolinar. _*The Jaffa rely on the Goa'uld to some extent and are harder to turn.*_

_~What about non-dangerous missions, then?~ _asked Sam. _~What will we be doing?~_

_*Aid, negotiation, support for other missions,* _said Jolinar. _*Not particularly without danger, just less of it.*_

_~Yeah, even science missions can go wrong,~ _said Sam.

_*I prefer that,* _said Jolinar. _*Then I have a purpose on them.*_

Sam grinned.

ooooooo

"Sir, these people are our responsibility!" said Jack through the radio.

"_I'm sorry, Jack, but the Abydos people are not worth the risk of making another enemy," _answered Hammond for the third time. _"We can barely keep our own world safe from the ones we have now."_

"How is it our responsibility?" asked Mckay. "Just because we know them? It's not like we did anything."

"Quetesh," said Daniel finally. "I do know that symbol—it's Quetesh."

"How do you think Quetesh found out about Abydos?" Jack asked Mckay after a glance to Daniel. "It's Apophis' world, or was until we cut him off by burying the gate. And it didn't sound like it was here on Apophis' orders. No, the only way another Goa'uld would hear of Abydos is through information, and I don't think Apophis is talking."

"Wait, what are you suggesting?" asked Mckay.

"Yeah, that's a good question," said Daniel, looking up from his brooding.

"Who's the one person out there who knows about Abydos and is with the Goa'uld, and would betray Apophis?" asked Jack, finishing with a toss of his hand at how simple it was.

"Sam?" asked Daniel incredulously.

"I do not believe ColonelO'Neill suspects CaptainCarter," said Teal'c.

"I know you want to believe that old Jolly's really a Tok'ra, but when it comes down to it we have absolutely no proof they exist, Daniel," said Jack.

"But why would she do this, it makes no sense?" asked Daniel. "She just got us to trust her a little, why betray that trust not three days later?"

"She didn't know we gave Kasuf a way to contact Earth," said Dixon, shrugging. "How else could he let us know what she did?"

"But—" said Daniel, not sure what his argument was but sure that he had one.

"_Colonel O'Neill, I'm sorry, but there is no way that we can justify a military strike against a Goa'uld of unknown strength." _Hammond's voice broke through the uneasy silence.

No one else had anything to say, either to Hammond or to Jack's suspicions. Dixon and Mckay seemed already on Jack's side—Teal'c was unreadable apart from the concern on his face. But for whom?

"Do I have permission to rescue as many as possible without drawing attention to Earth?" asked Jack.

There was a long pause. _"You have two hours, Colonel. Godspeed."_

The Stargate disengaged, leaving the room a little darker.

"I didn't think he'd approve even that," said Dixon, surprised.

"These people are almost family, Dixon," said Jack with emphasis. "And he knows I wouldn't accept a no anyway."

"So wait, this is a rescue mission now?" said Mckay.

"Looks like," said Dixon, grabbing the backpack he had set down while they waited.

Daniel shook his head. He looked at Jack, who's face was still grim, and then sighed and picked up his own pack. At this point, it didn't matter how it had happened, it only mattered that his people were in danger.

"We can't save them all, Daniel," said Jack quietly as he passed by him.

"I know," said Daniel softly. From the moment he had seen Quetesh, he had lost all hope in this turning out well. Jack might very well be right, as this situation nearly screamed of the same luck that had followed Jolinar's relations with them so far. He bit back any desperation, and steeled himself for making hard choices.

ooooooo

"You are going on Tok'ra missions?" asked Sha're, her eyes wide with question. She was able to sit up in bed now, and her skin had regained some more color. "I did not think—" She broke off.

Sam sighed a little. "It's not what you think, just that whenever I stay idle like this, I'm keeping Jolinar with me. Jolinar hasn't complained yet, but I know she's been thinking about it and so has the Council. I won't be gone for very long, just little things."

"Like SG-1 was?" asked Sha're.

Sam paused, thinking. "Yeah, I guess it will be a little like that."

"That is good, then," said Sha're, smiling. "You have been restless with all the waiting."

"That's not a good thing," said Sam, correcting her. "I get caught up in my work, but I should be able to relax."

"And you can," said Sha're with an encouraging smile, looking down to where Shifu began to fuss for food. "But not anymore, there is no need. I shall have to convince Martouf when you are gone that I am well enough for Tok'ra entertainment. They, also, find it difficult to relax, but they do and so shall I."

"I wonder if Saroosh or Selmak would like to see Shifu," wondered Sam. "I'm sure they would enjoy having someone with no more pressing business to talk to." She frowned. "I'm not sure if they could come down here, though."

"I am sure I will be fine, Sa'm," said Sha're, settling Shifu into position so that he could nurse happily while she spoke. "Shifu and the doctor's orders take up much of my day in the first place." She paused. "Why do I not hear from Jolinar? You often speak of her, but she only speaks to Martouf and Lantash, not to me."

_~Oh, a challenge,~_ said Sam, a little glee in her tone.

Jolinar took Sam's proffered control, coming forward to speak. "I did not think you would be comfortable around the voice of a symbiote—many hosts are sensitive when first recovering. And once that was no longer the issue, you were already familiar with Samantha, not myself."

"Did you not think that I could feel your presence?" asked Sha're. "What is a voice compared to that?"

"Are you so interested in one whom you will soon be leaving?" asked Jolinar in return.

"Not forever, surely," said Sha're. "Sa'm told me that she intends to propose an alliance."

Jolinar shrugged. "Whatever happens, I did not think your mind would dwell on us."

Sha're stretched forth her hand, her face losing its teasing appearance. "I do not forget kindnesses, to myself or to my friends."

Jolinar stepped forward, clasping the hand gently.

"Good, that's settled then," said Sha're, readjusting Shifu as he continued to feed.

_*I believe you are right, she and Selmak and Saroosh would enjoy each other's company indeed,* _said Jolinar. _*They are of the same cloth.* _She then gave control back to Sam.

"Just so you know, she doesn't talk much in any case," said Sam to Sha're.

"But now I know she does," said Sha're, simply satisfied. She sighed, and Sam caught a hint of weariness, but not enough to pry. Sha're could be very stubborn in refusing to talk about anything wrong with her; Sam hoped that Daniel had better luck, yet another benefit that this coming negotiation would hopefully bring.

"I will see you late tomorrow then, I believe," said Sam. "We shall take a short mission first."

"I cannot promise to be awake, but I will hope for it," said Sha're, smiling as before.

ooooooo

With Mckay and Dixon holding the position at the pyramid, Jack, Daniel and Teal'c pressed forward into the village. Their desert-colored BDUs kept any eyes from directly noticing them but there seemed to be few about to see in the first place. There were only a handful of Jaffa in the village, and before any discussion of the issue could take place, Teal'c and Jack had quietly disposed of them. Sneaking over to the crest of the hill, though, they saw the rest of the invading force crowded down by the mines.

There were many more Jaffa than seemed necessary, probably as Quetesh had not been fully aware of what population Abydos supported, and many were not even standing guard but loitering around. Quetesh was not there, but her first prime was directing things himself. Daniel watched as the Jaffa crowded the one group of people toward the mine, and the other into the two Goa'uld ships.

"There's not enough room in those ships," said Jack in a low tone. He pulled out binoculars and gave a closer look. "It looks like the snake's taking mostly the women and the children."

"What do we do?" asked Daniel.

Jack didn't answer, just continued to look down on the scene below. Finally, he closed them and put them back in his jacket. "Teal'c, how much C4 do you have?"

"Only a small portion, Colonel O'Neill," answered Teal'c.

Daniel glanced between them. "What?"

Jack pulled out his radio. "Dixon? I'm going to need your C4 in a minute—we're just on the crest of the hill."

"Jack?" asked Daniel, unsure and concerned.

"They provoked an attack, Daniel," said Jack without emotion. "We were forced to defend ourselves with lethal force. Hammond will understand."

"We are defying GeneralHammond's orders?" asked Teal'c with one eyebrow raised.

"Yes, yes we are," said Jack.

"But—" began Daniel.

"No buts, Daniel," cut off Jack. "At this point, I really don't care if this comes back to bite us in the ass. I'm not going to decide who's worth saving."

Daniel stood without words to add—his heart was aching at seeing his people shuffled like cattle, and Jack was saying what he wanted to say. And yet, because Jack had suggested it, he felt like he needed to be the one to object. But—why? He glanced back down at the ships, and clenched his jaw. As Jack would say, to hell with orders.

—

**Notes:**

Catchup from past chapters: No, there was no reporter that approached Jack in Washington, partly because he didn't have Sam and Jack's conversation as evidence, and partly because Jack didn't go to the bar and quickly left Washington all together.

Apophis and Heru'ur: Apophis did not come to Abydos because he was already aware that Sha're/Amonet had gone missing, hence he is searching for her. Heru'ur found Abydos because of Apophis' checking up on Sha're (I believe), so with Apophis otherwise engaged at the moment it takes Heru'ur longer to find where Abydos is.

Quetesh: I didn't just throw in a Goa'uld we all knew for no reason…there's some more explanation coming up on how and why she got to this planet.


	18. Luck

**Chapter 17 - Luck**

"This is a terrible plan!" said Mckay as he followed Daniel back through the tents.

"Mckay, do you want to be on this team?" sighed Daniel.

"Yes."

"Then act like it."

"It's not the breaking orders thing," continued Mckay.

Daniel found what he was looking for and glanced at the scientist, a little surprised at the answer. "Oh?"

"No, it really is a terrible plan," said Mckay. "Sneaking into the ships to set off C4? Then what?"

"Then the Jaffa will be called to the more important issue, and we can evacuate all the Abydonians through the gate," said Daniel.

"What if they aren't all called?" asked Mckay.

Daniel gritted his teeth. "Look at who made the plan—what do you think comes next?"

"How is this not starting a war?" asked Mckay. "I mean, seriously, I hate the Goa'uld as much as anyone, but I'm not going to die here on principle's sake!"

"No one's going to die," assured Daniel. He grabbed what he had found, and walked past Mckay out of the tent.

"You don't know that!" Mckay hissed as they went back to the others.

"This is what I found," reported Daniel. "They're a bit big, but that's good." He tossed a tan robe each to Teal'c, Jack, and Dixon, who were crouched and keeping a sharp eye on everything going on below.

"They've got a third of the people on board by now," said Jack. "We still have time. Okay, team, this is it—Mckay, you're going to be the distraction since you can't be anything else."

Mckay blinked and opened his mouth, but the looks of his teammates had it quickly shut again.

"Just go over there and fire your gun a few times," said Jack. "Not the whole clip, though, we may need it later. Any of the Jaffa not busy will try to track you down, so you just run like hell back up to the gate. Before they get you, we'll have caused a bigger mess. Dixon, Teal'c, and I will sneak in among the Abydonians as they're all rushed in because of the fuss, and Daniel will position himself by the mines in the confusion. Teal'c will ring to the other ship and set the C4 there, and Dixon and I will do the same on this ship." Jack used his hands to indicate the various positions.

"When that goes off, if we have any luck this Quetesh will call them to see what happened. At that moment, you Daniel will reveal yourself and call for everyone to run, and we'll do the same from inside the ship. They should listen to us. Any Jaffa who try to stop us, you will zat them. No guns, because you might hit one of our people in the confusion. Mckay, you will dial the gate as soon as you get to the pyramid, then direct the people as they come towards you. Understood, all?"

"Yes, sir," said Dixon.

Teal'c nodded.

"Yes," said Mckay, after a moment's hesitation.

Daniel looked at Jack and nodded. He had some serious reservations, but he had also decided that more was going on than Jack's usual stubbornness—something that wouldn't be assuaged by his words alone.

"Just one question," said Mckay, finger raised.

Jack rolled his eyes, but nodded for him to continue.

"There's a lot of variables here," Mckay said, "but one especially—what if the people are too scared to run?"

"These people stood up to Ra and Apophis," said Jack. "With our help, yes, but we're here and we've got guns. They'll do it."

Mckay winced a little, still unsure, but didn't object.

"Let's go!" whispered Jack.

As the military men got their robes on and hid their weapons underneath, while Daniel made his way west along the ridge until the village was just southwest of him. The mines were a little farther back than the ships, caves of stone barely peeking up from the sand, but he didn't need to get all the way there. From this angle, any Jaffa running would be going to the east of him.

"_You ready?"_ called Jack over the radio.

"All set," said Daniel, crouched and ready to dash down the hill and behind that nice dune near the mines.

"_Now, Mckay!"_

Behind him, suddenly, Daniel heard a wild banshee-like shriek and some random shots into the air. He glanced back and saw Mckay, head ducked to his chest and one arm raised with the gun, darting up the hill beyond the village. Looking back, he saw that the Jaffa had heard too. The strange noise was worth investigating, and all but who were necessary grabbed staff weapons and charged up the hill. The ones keeping guard kept their gaze on the prisoners, and Daniel thought he saw the Abydonians look up in recognition at the sound. But he didn't have time to look closer, and half-ran half-slid down the hill before the remaining Jaffa looked back up.

The little avalanche of sand that he left stilled before the initial confusion was past, and by then Daniel was in position. He looked across the plain to the ships, and saw three robed figures add themselves in the middle of the crowd. Sure enough, the Jaffa were hurrying the procession onto the ships, ceasing their check of each figure for a young man trying to escape the mines. Before a whole minute had passed, Daniel couldn't see the rest of his team.

"Mckay?" he whispered into his radio.

There was no answer for a bit, but before Daniel could worry, there came a breathless, frantic _"What?"_

"They're in—shouldn't be long," whispered Daniel, making sure the volume was turned as low as it could go.

"_They're right on my tail up here, I only have a couple minutes, if that!_" said Mckay, sounding desperate.

"You do know how to shoot, right?" asked Daniel, frowning a little as he realized the timing might go a little off.

"_Not at a moving target!" _

Daniel grimaced. "Come on guys," he murmured, not in the radio.

The seconds felt like minutes, and nearly all the crowd of Abydonians were on the ship now. Suddenly, there was a rapid fire of loud explosions, though not as loud as they could have been. A couple spots on the first ship burst into flame for a couple seconds before dying down to a smoky char.

Daniel leapt out, spreading his arms wide and calling in a loud voice. "People of Abydos!"

He wasn't loud enough for them all to hear, but as a few turned, they beckoned to the others. The Jaffa heard too, though, so Daniel didn't waste time. "I am Daniel and I have returned to help you, but you must stand up and fight!"

The Jaffa were prepared to fire, and Daniel was prepared to drop, but a few ambitious Abydonians tackled the nearest Jaffa to the ground. A second later, and suddenly they were moving as a mass, a mob, a crowd, not fighting but just knocking the Jaffa to the ground as they made their way to Daniel.

"Come! This way!" he beckoned, up the hill.

Another explosion rang out from the second ship, and two more from the first. Looking up the hill, Daniel hoped the other Jaffa were on their way. The Abydonians came rushing up to Daniel.

"Dan'yel!" called one.

"What are you doing here?" asked another.

"What should we do?"

"There is a demon here!"

"I know," said Daniel, speaking up. "And the Jaffa are on their way, but we can escape through the Chappa'ai."

"The Jaffa will kill us!" offered one frightened man.

"They have killed many," said another, sober.

"We are distracting them, hopefully they will not see," said Daniel. "Now hurry!" He ushered the first hundred or so, and the rest followed, seeing the wisdom of not loitering.

Daniel glanced behind as the Abydonians made their way up the hill. The Jaffa were inside the ships, and Daniel could only hope that Jack and Teal'c and Dixon were all right.

"_Jackson!"_ Mckay's tense voice came over the radio. _"Jackson, is it okay?"_

"I don't know yet," said Daniel. He had run back to behind the sand dune as the Jaffa returned from the pyramid, intent on reaching their god's ship but not undistractable. "But everyone's coming your way—dial a safe place and have them go through. We can't send them to earth right now."

"_I figured that,"_ said Mckay, his voice just a hint relieved.

There were three more explosions on the ships, loud and dramatic, and Daniel frowned. Those couldn't be C4, they came from outside... He looked up and swore. Death gliders.

"Jack? Teal'c? Dixon?" he called into the radio. "You alive?"

"_Barely, Jackson," _answered Dixon, and the shots of Jaffa could be heard around him.

"There's another Goa'uld attacking," said Daniel, looking up. "Things are going to get really rough."

"_Teal'c hasn't opened up the second ship—there's still some Abydonians in there. You?"_

"They're headed towards the gate," said Daniel, ducking as a glider flew straight over him and sent several shots into the Al'kesh, leaving smoke and fire behind. "You have to get out of there now!"

"_Whoa there!" _came Dixon. _"Teal'c, your ship's firing up engines!"_

"_Teal'c, get your ass out of there!" _called Jack finally.

Sure enough, the second ship was beginning to rise in the air.

Daniel bit his lip, waiting. A few more death gliders ploughed through, sending their shots onto the first ship. It looked barely in one piece. Finally, he saw two small figures run down the ramp and out, and just as a third appeared, another shot hit the ship. Running as fast as they could, explosions rolled out from the damage to the rest of the ship behind them, and the rest of SG-1 was barely out of the way before the whole ship blew.

The second ship was already in the air, and flying high and away—they had failed to stop Quetesh entirely.

"_We've got Jaffa!_" called Mckay, desperate again over the radio.

"_Get the guns into hands!" _ordered Jack.

Daniel ran up to his three comrades, all a bit out of breath.

"We're so screwed!" said Dixon.

"Mckay needs support," said Jack, rising to his feet from where he had fallen to cover his head as the ship exploded. His face was streaked with soot and sweat, and his expression was grim. "And we need to leave."

They all ran up the hill, making the return trip in much better time. Dixon and Jack ran into the pyramid, guns blazing, and immediately had reason to fire. A few Abydonians lay dead on the floor, scattered as if hit while running, and the Jaffa were pouring from the rings every few seconds. The gate was wide open and still on its side, and the other Abydonians were crawling through. Mckay was sending out near-random shots from behind a pillar, an Abydonian providing support with his other gun.

Finishing off the few Jaffa, SG-1 quickly met up near the gate to establish a defense position.

"We're almost done," gasped Mckay, overwhelmed with panic and stress.

"Those are Heru'ur's Jaffa," said Teal'c. "He is an enemy of Apophis."

"So it could be coincidence?" asked Daniel. He glanced around, seeing that all his people got through safely.

A few more Jaffa ringed in, but the ready and aimed weapons of all four had them on the ground in seconds.

"Indeed," said Teal'c. "It is possible he heard the rumor that Apophis sent his queen here, as Jolinar suggested."

"Yes, Jolinar could get around, couldn't she," said Jack with a set jaw.

Finally, the last Abydonian was through the gate. Backing through with guns at the ready, SG-1 left Abydos a site of battle once again. Daniel felt a pang as he saw all the bodies on the floor, and thought of the people still on Quetesh's ship if it had survived the attack from Heru'ur. This mission had been so frantic, so on the spot, and such a mixture of success and failure.

On the planet, once the gate disengaged, they all stood for a minute. It was an empty planet, very green and sunny, as if all was well with the universe. The Abydonians were crowded around, trying to see who had been lost, and Mckay took a seat on a boulder.

"Now what?" asked Dixon.

"That ship's long gone," said Jack darkly. "One way or another."

"So they're lost for good?" asked Daniel.

Jack gave him a look, knowing that Daniel knew the answer to that question. Daniel sighed. "I know, we don't know anything about Quetesh or where her base is."

"Dan'yel?" Adros, a young Abydonian, hesitantly approached SG-1.

"Yes, Adros?" answered Daniel, turning a little wearily but glad for the change in topic.

"When you set forth to find our people, there are some among us who wish to join," he said. "There are many with family among the lost."

"Adros, we don't know what we're going to do about that yet," said Daniel, removing his glasses and rubbing his eyes. "We don't know how this happened."

"It was a Goa'uld attack," said Adros, confused. "What more is there?"

"Oh, you'd be surprised," said Jack, stepping forward. "You see, we think we know how this snake found out about this place."

"But what does that matter?" asked Adros. "Our people, our family?"

"We don't know where they are," said Daniel, putting a hand on the man's arm. "But we'll try our best. Believe me, Adros."

"We all believe in you, Dan'yel," said Adros, even though his brow furrowed.

Daniel frowned. "My good father, Kasuf?"

"He was chosen by Quetesh at first, because he resisted and stood forth as our leader," said Adros sadly. "He was the one who sent for you, and made sure that the Chappa'ai was not discovered. He told us that we were not to anger the Goa'uld further, because you would come to rescue us, and then he was taken. He was on the other ship in the end if he survived at all."

Daniel stood, somewhat stricken. All his family on this planet, taken by the Goa'uld, even after all his effort and sacrifice to keep them safe.

"We need to contact Hammond before anything else," said Jack, breaking the silence. He glanced to Mckay, who stood up and began dialing earth. "There's a lot to discuss."

ooooooo

Sam's first mission with the Tok'ra was dreadfully boring, as Jolinar had warned it would be. They were simply to bring supplies through Goa'uld territory to a Tok'ra outpost, and since all the Jaffa on this world were at that moment preparing for war with another Goa'uld, it was scarcely dangerous at all. Neither Sam nor Jolinar were at any moment concerned for their life, and as the delivery was over quickly, they were quickly able to settle for the night in a dark cave on the planet. Hopefully their return journey would be just as dull.

Just as they were about to sleep, though, there was a communication from the Tok'ra home-world.

"We thought you would want to know, we were able to connect to Abydos," said one of the Tok'ra who guarded the gate.

"You tried again?" asked Jolinar.

The Tok'ra nodded on the device, and it rippled a little. "We made a connection not long ago and sent our signal through, but received no answer."

Jolinar frowned. "That is another ill sign."

"We shall try again tomorrow morning," he said. "But if we again receive no answer, you should be ready to investigate."

"Understood," said Jolinar. The device went dark.

_~I don't understand what the problem could be,~ _said Sam.

_*I have a bad feeling about this,*_ said Jolinar.

_~Maybe it's a technical issue,~ _ said Sam. _~That happens a lot, more than the sinister things.~_

_*Maybe on your world,*_ said Jolinar. _*But we cannot do anything tonight.*_ She silenced her mind after that, preparing for sleep.

Sam wasn't quite ready to let it go, unable to come up with an easy answer for the situation. Jolinar had been right before, maybe she knew more about this world, enough to guess. Or maybe she was just pessimistic. She had made the decision anyway, to go to sleep. Sometimes Sam liked to stay awake after Jolinar dozed off so to experience a modicum of privacy, but not tonight. She closed her mind off to worry and joined Jolinar in deep sleep.

ooooooo

Daniel wasn't sure he'd ever had a more painful briefing. At least when Sam had gone, there was no blame and no disobedience. This briefing had everything wrong. Jack was taking most of the blame, and if Daniel had been more on top of things he would have jumped up to say that he was just as ready to break the rules. But there were other, perhaps more important things, making him frown and rest his head on his hands sometimes, rubbing wearily at his eyes.

"Colonel, do you even give a damn about the rules?" snapped Hammond, losing all patience after a half an hour of butting heads.

"Yes sir," said Jack, "just not right now."

"Damn it, I should have you court-martialed!" said Hammond.

"I saved these people, sir," said Jack.

"And you didn't have the right," said Hammond. "The people of Abydos are not our responsibility, much as you may think otherwise. We didn't lead the Goa'uld to them, we came into a bad situation and tried to make it better."

"With all due respect, I don't think so," said Jack forcefully.

This was what Daniel had feared.

"You care to explain yourself?" asked Hammond, sitting back from where he had been leaned forward in his chair.

"This Quetesh didn't talk about Apophis or Ra," said Jack. "This wasn't two Goa'uld fighting over territory."

Hammond looked to Teal'c and Dixon, who had been still and mostly silent. Mckay had carefully seated himself down from both Jack and Daniel, out of near sight from Hammond. None of them protested Jack's observation, and Teal'c barely nodded his head in agreement.

"If this is true, where did this Quetesh come from?" asked Hammond, brow furrowed.

"Exactly," said Jack, thrusting his finger out. "Sir," he continued, "the only other person who knows about Abydos is Carter—and Jolinar."

"Are you suggesting that she lied to us?" asked Hammond.

"I don't think Carter had anything to do with it," said Jack, frowning. "I had my doubts then, I think they're proven right now. Jolinar didn't know we'd give Kasuf a way to contact us, so she let all her little Goa'uld buddies know that Abydos was free game. Maybe it was a compromise so she could get their help to take us out at the next meeting."

Hammond frowned deeply, not saying anything for a moment. "Doctor Jackson, why aren't you saying anything?"

Daniel looked up. "General sir, I don't know what to think here. I faced Jolinar—Sam even, maybe—and she didn't strike me as that dangerous."

"Isn't it a good possibility that that was her goal?" asked Hammond.

"Yes sir," said Daniel, but not confidently or convincingly. "It's just—it's all speculation, and it doesn't exactly match with how I saw things. I'm not saying I'm right, but I'm not ready to admit that I was wrong."

"The thing is, we won't know for sure," said Jack, turning from Daniel to Hammond. "We'll show up at that meeting, and who knows what Jolinar will do."

"That's not the most major issue, Colonel," said Hammond. "What's more important is, we've let this go on too long."

Jack's eyebrows raised, and he looked to Daniel, who had nothing to offer, and then back to Hammond. "Hmm?"

"Jolinar's possession of Captain Carter is a danger to more than just this base," said Hammond, resting his hands on the table. "We should have recognized before that her knowledge of this program's dealings is not something we want to risk. Whether she did orchestrate this attack on Abydos or not, we can't risk the chance in the future."

Jack sat for a moment, then nodded. "What I said from the beginning," he muttered.

"What are we going to do, then?" asked Daniel.

"Jolinar will be taken into custody at the scheduled negotiations," said Hammond.

"Wait, isn't that breaking foreign policy law, to do that at a parley?" spoke up Mckay, raising his hand slightly.

"Sir, that's hardly the way to approach diplomacy, if Jolinar was telling the truth," agreed Daniel, frowning.

"If this Jolinar was telling the truth, then she will understand if we make a mistake," said Hammond. "But I'm afraid that at this time, it appears to be a much larger chance that she wasn't."

"The guys at the Pentagon won't like this," commented Dixon.

"They don't have to know until it's over," said Jack.

"Agreed," said Hammond. He paused. "Gentlemen, I think we've discussed this enough. You may retire—and Colonel? I'll deal with your court-martial later."

"Yes sir," said Jack, nodding. He and Dixon stood as Hammond rose to depart.

"Next mission on hold then?" asked Dixon as the two left together.

"So you really think it was all coincidence?" asked Mckay when the other two were gone.

Daniel looked to him, to Teal'c, and then back at his own hands. "I want to hope that," he said quietly. "I want to hope that my wife was rescued, that there might be a chance for my brother, and that my father was taken accidentally. But I wanted to hope that Sha're could resist Amonet and return to me on her own. I wanted to hope that Abydos was forgotten by Apophis forever, and that it would be a safe haven for me and Sha're once we were together again." He sighed. "I've wanted to hope in many false things."

Mckay eyed him skeptically, but didn't say anything. Daniel hoped that meant he was beginning to understand when Daniel did or didn't want to talk. But with Mckay, it could be accidental.

"DanielJackson," said Teal'c, as he also rose from the table, looking Daniel straight in the eye. "Do not lose sight of the hopes that have not been false—we have defeated Apophis beyond all reason, with only hope on our side."

Daniel smiled weakly. "Yeah, I'll have to work on that. There's a large record of failures to be tempered by so few successes."

"You know, I think all this bad luck is due to the missions we get," commented Mckay, still sitting by Daniel.

Teal'c paused by the door, one eyebrow rising.

"Well somebody's letting SG-3 go to the nice primordial and prehistoric planets, and we get the potentially dangerous ones," said Mckay.

"Mckay, you realize we can't actually go to a prehistoric planet," said Daniel, rising with a slight sigh. "Prehistoric means—oh never mind."

"What would we do on such worlds, DoctorMckay?" asked Teal'c.

"Not get in trouble," said Mckay, in an obvious tone. "Seriously, if I had known the string of luck that would follow this team, the fear for my life would have kept me away. Do you realize how often we could have been killed?"

"Actually, we have been killed once," commented Daniel, closing his file.

"Really?" asked Mckay frowning.

"We have always survived, DoctorMckay," said Teal'c as the other two followed him out of the room. "Our individual fortunes cannot entirely combat our good fortune when we work together."

Mckay shrugged. "Yeah, that might be true."

Daniel looked to Teal'c, who gave him an encouraging twitch of the mouth—or that's how Daniel read it, not completely fluent in Teal'c-ese even now. Even taking into account what had happened to Sam, Teal'c was right—they were a team, and they were a good one, and they made it through to the next day. He just hoped they could do more than that; he hoped that they could live well and not just survive, and there would need to be a string of fortunate occurrences to start that.

—

**Author's Notes:** Nothing much in this chapter. Heru'ur did arrive, just later than in canon due to Apophis' change of plan, and Quetesh will be further explained later.


	19. Conflict

**Chapter 18 - Conflict**

Sam and Jolinar woke well before the Tok'ra made contact again. Halfway to the gate, sneaking through the woods, they heard the signal.

"What is it?" whispered Jolinar as she drew the small sphere out, the quiet for protocol rather than necessity.

"_Again we receive no news from Abydos. The Council has agreed that you may investigate today."_

"Understood," said Jolinar, putting the ball back in her pocket.

_~We don't need to gate back, then, we can just gate to Abydos,~ _said Sam.

_*Indeed,* _said Jolinar.

The Jaffa on this planet were once again not holding a position by the gate, and Sam and Jolinar made it easily past. Jolinar punched in the symbols for Abydos, and watched as they lit up. The seventh one locked and there was a kawoosh, which gave Sam a little hope. If it was a technical difficulty, it still hadn't affected the gate itself—perhaps the DHD was broken on the other end.

They walked through.

_*Perhaps you were right,* _said Jolinar, standing in the gate room and surveying the broken-down aspects.

_~No, I wasn't,~ _said Sam. _~Look, there's the DHD right there, and it doesn't look harmed.~_

Jolinar stood, walked over, and pressed a few keys. It responded normally._*That at least you are right about.*_

_~So why didn't they send a response?~ _asked Sam. _~And why is the gate near all this rubble? Where is everyone?~_

Jolinar frowned, reaching for her zat gun. Her stance lowered a little as she went on edge. _*Look, corpses.*_

They crossed the floor to the pillars. _~Those are Jaffa,~ _said Sam, worriedly. _~But there are some Abydonians too.~_

_*Heru'ur's Jaffa,* _said Jolinar. _*As an enemy of Apophis, he must have heard that Amonet was here.*_

_~But why would there be a fight?~ _asked Sam.

_*Come,* _said Jolinar. Passing the bodies, and noting that many more Jaffa than Abydonians were among them, they left the pyramid.

_~I don't see anyone below us,~ _said Sam.

It was late afternoon on Abydos, and a barely-there warm breeze brought only the dry scent of dust and sand as they quickly moved down into the village.

_*Wait,* _said Jolinar, stopping by one of the Jaffa and crouching to turn him over. _*This is not of Heru'ur, this is of Quetesh.*_

_~Another Goa'uld?~ _asked Sam.

_*Yes, and not allied with Heru'ur or Apophis—she is identified with Ba'al.* _Jolinar's tone held more than fact alone.

_~Ba'al...the one who captured our ship?~_

_*Yes,* _said Jolinar. She frowned, looking at the emblem. _*It is possible that he was able to locate this world by using the ship's log, but why not immediately?*_

_~Who is Quetesh to Ba'al?~ _asked Sam.

_*He prefers to think of her as his queen, but she is his ally only for her own convenience,* _said Jolinar.

_~So she might steal his planets?~ _asked Sam.

Jolinar caught on quickly, and continued walking through the village, marking each of the Jaffa as they lay, some of Heru'ur and of Quetesh. _*Ba'al may not consider this world worthy of his grand plans, but Quetesh is resourceful. She must have come to take it for her own, just as Heru'ur came to find Amonet; they met and collided, each thinking the other meant to thwart their goal.*_

_~And what happened to the Abydonians?~ _asked Sam.

_*They were not killed, so far as I can see,* _said Jolinar. _*These dwellings are still intact, with only a few staff blasts that were probably accidental.* _She paused to rest her hand on one. _*It is likely that they were taken captive.*_

Before Sam could answer, Jolinar stood at the edge of the village on the ridge, and they both stood for a second in shock. Below them were many more dead Jaffa, but even more prominent was the huge black mark on the sand where something had exploded. And it was bigger than anything on Abydos, which implied only one thing.

_*A ship,* _said Jolinar.

_~What does that mean?~ _asked Sam.

_*There were too many people to be transported on one ship, so it is unlikely that all were destroyed, but...*_

Sam got the hint. _~We don't know how the battle ended, who won.~_

_*We don't know anything,* _corrected Jolinar. _*We can guess looking at these miniscule signs, but it means nothing.*_

_~So what do we do?~ _asked Sam. _~Go after them both?~_

There was no answer from Jolinar, and Sam thought she knew the hold-up.

_~These are Sha're's people,~ _said Sam. _~And it was through rescuing her for the Tok'ra that Ba'al and Quetesh found out about this place.~ _She paused. _~But no, attempting this rescue is more than a hit-and-run, and the Tok'ra don't ever do that lightly, do they?~_

_*It is true that we might be considered responsible for this,*_ said Jolinar. She said nothing, standing still with a tight jaw. _*We will not find anything more useful here,* _she concluded after a moment.

_~Home then?~ _said Sam. _~We will have to tell Sha're.~_

_*Believe me, I do not relish the thought,* _said Jolinar sharply, striding back up the hill towards the pyramid.

ooooooo

"No, seriously, there is some sort of residual energy on this," said Mckay, flipping the object around in his hands as he sat on Daniel's desk.

"Rodney, SG-8 established that it was part of a device, but I'm sure it's ornamental," said Daniel, reaching for it from his comfortable seat.

"And if it's not?" asked Mckay.

"You think I'm going to break it?" asked Daniel in response.

Mckay paused. "You who keeps every rock safe no matter how relevant? No, no, I don't think you'll break it. But this energy—it might mean something."

"I thought we agreed not to bring up your disdain of archaeology," commented Daniel.

"I don't disdain it!" protested Mckay. "But there's a time and a place, and it's hardly a science anyways."

"Your devices for studying this energy might harm the writing on it," said Daniel, rolling his eyes and dropping the other point.

"And your tools will most certainly disrupt any energy," said Mckay.

Daniel sighed, putting one hand to his forehead.

"Looks like fun," said Dixon dryly, strolling in with arms crossed. "You two ready to knock it out of each other?"

Mckay rolled his eyes at the man. "Unlike some, we intellectuals don't see the need to resort to physical violence."

"Need, no, want, maybe," muttered Daniel.

Dixon chuckled, then added seriously: "Hey, I know the last few days have been kind of hard on us. And I heard you were thinking about talking to my wife about a team night with us, and since my kids want to meet you, well..."

"Well what?" asked Mckay.

"You want to come over tonight?" asked Dixon.

"Really?" asked Daniel, looking up, the lines in his forehead fading just a little.

"Yeah, really," said Dixon, shrugging. "A good barbecue always puts things in context, which is something we probably need."

"That actually sounds great," said Daniel, sitting up and letting his hands rest in his lap.

"Sure, why not," said Mckay, a little pained and sarcastic, but not objecting.

"Assuming the Colonel can make it, we're on," said Dixon.

"Oh, there may be some issue about that," came Jack's dark voice.

Dixon turned around as Jack and Teal'c entered the lab.

"Hammond took the night to think over my punishment, and decided that a court martial was not nearly torturous enough," said Jack. "I have to deal with the organization and paperwork involved in settling the Abydonians down on a new planet," he said with groan.

"Joy," said Dixon, wincing.

"How would Teal'c say it, "Indeed"?" said Jack, his weary eyebrows still able to perform a sarcastic rise.

"There's a few thousand of them, but surely the Alpha site would be suitable," said Daniel.

"Well, we'll see, won't we," said Jack. "But what do I need to be available for?"

"Team night, my house, BYOB&M barbecue," said Dixon. "You in?"

"Sure," said Jack. "As long as we get to talk about boring, everyday, insignificant things." That last comment could have been in a lighter tone, Daniel thought, had recent events been otherwise.

"I also shall be honored to visit your home and your family," said Teal'c with a nod of his head.

"You got kids?" asked Jack.

"Yup, three," said Dixon. "You don't mind kids, right?"

Jack snorted. "Kids are the best people in the world, Dave."

"Well, mine sure are," said Dixon with a grin. "Sounds good, then. See you all at 1830."

"What's this?" asked Jack, grabbing the bit of metal and stone from Mckay.

"A device," said Mckay.

"An artifact," said Daniel at the same time.

"Never mind," said Jack, putting it quickly down on the table. "None of my business."

"I guess we should leave you two to your argument then," said Dixon.

"Dave, wanna help me with the paperwork?" asked Jack hopefully.

"That an order, sir?" answered Dixon, already standing at the door.

"Does it have to be?" asked Jack.

"Yes, sir," said Dixon with a grin.

Jack sighed. "Never mind, then. Teal'c?"

"I am not sure of what use I would be to you, ColonelO'Neill," said Teal'c.

"Come on, I'll show you," said Jack, leading him out and leaving Daniel and Rodney to their own.

"Okay, here's a deal," said Daniel, leaning forward again. "I get to make a detailed photograph, and then you get to have it for the rest of the day—you can't find anything, then I get it back."

Mckay sighed. "Fine."

ooooooo

Returning to the Tok'ra home-world, Shan'ak, the Tok'ra who nearly always dialed the gate for them, did not ask Jolinar or Sam anything about what they had seen. But since they swept past him with a brooding face, and since it was not his place to know, that was hardly a wonder. Martouf and Lantash were not so silent, as soon as they caught sight of Jolinar.

"What is wrong?" asked Martouf, after a chaste kiss as they met in the halls.

"Everything," said Jolinar, but pausing to stay a moment before continuing on.

"Was there any issue with our base on Kreola?" asked Martouf, watching her face closely.

"No, on Abydos," answered Jolinar.

Martouf put a hand on Jolinar's. "Sha're's people?" he asked, concerned.

"All gone, taken by the Goa'uld," said Jolinar. She sighed. "Both Heru'ur and Quetesh seemed to be in dispute over the planet."

"This is ill news for all," said Martouf, his face darkening. "I did not think Quetesh had that much power."

"Nor did I," said Jolinar. Her frown deepened. "I have been out of touch."

"But for Sha're as well, of course," said Martouf. "Will you tell her soon?"

"There is no purpose in waiting," said Jolinar. "I must speak to the Council soon on the matter in any case, so she would find out then."

"The Council?" asked Martouf. "Why?"

"To discuss what course of action to take in this matter," said Jolinar.

"This is but information, what course of action is there to take?" asked Martouf, confused.

"I am duty bound to help find these people," said Jolinar, looking up at him. Sam could almost feel the slow burning fire emanating from her eyes. "Sha're is under our protection, mine and Samantha's, and it was by our actions that her people were put at risk from Quetesh, even if Heru'ur was separate."

Martouf looked down at her, a little stunned and perhaps unsure of how much approval to express—Sam at least could not tell. He closed his eyes and Lantash spoke next. "Jolinar?" he asked warningly. "I know that you feel for these people, but we cannot commit to helping every misfortune. This may not even be connected to you."

"Then I will not do so," said Jolinar. "But once is not every."

"But what is your motivation for this time?" continued Lantash, pressing.

Sam remained silent, just as interested in her answer, but Jolinar gave none. She pressed her lips together, her eyes firmly resting on a point just below Lantash's chin, and said nothing. Sam couldn't even hear one thought.

Lantash sighed after a moment, and returned control to Martouf. "Jolinar, I do not understand why you insist on this, but you must know that the Council will not approve."

"Sometimes, Martouf, it does not matter what the Council says," said Jolinar firmly.

Martouf smiled faintly at her, and bent to plant a kiss on her forehead. "I hope your passion is well placed," he said. "And that is all I will say on this."

Jolinar leaned into his kiss a little. "It is my duty to try."

"I am sorry for both Sha're and Samantha that this has happened—it will be my hope that this turns out well," he said.

Jolinar's tense mouth gave him a hint of a smile, and then she continued on her way.

Sam wanted to say something, ask the same questions that Martouf and Lantash had asked only with less disapproval and more curiosity, but she knew better than to press that point. Instead, she turned to something said that she had grasped and held on to early in the conversation.

_~Are you familiar with Quetesh?~ _asked Sam. _~More than usual, I mean? You seemed to know what her character was like, and implied that you had once been in contact.~_

_*Yes.*_

_~What, that's it?~ _asked Sam. _~Come on Jol, this is getting ridiculous.~_

_*What is, the fact that I do not wish to tell you everything about myself?* _said Jolinar, nearly snapping. _*Oh yes, very ridiculous indeed!*_

_~I don't need to know everything,~ _said Sam. _~I wasn't asking for that, just a little more than you gave.~_

_*Let me be the judge of what is too much to ask,* _said Jolinar, and then fell silent.

Sam sighed, and grudgingly filed it away for later. Today was not the day for arguments anyway.

They made it to the infirmary, and were glad to find that Sha're had been moved to a more private area, as private as the Tok'ra ever got. She was sitting up in bed with Shifu snuggled in her arms, looking worlds better than before physically, but her mood clearly pissed. Eyes smoldering, lips in a tight line, her rocking of Shifu a little less than smooth and gentle—and it was easy to tell the cause.

Anise was at the foot of her bed in one of her less-than-generic outfits, her own look serious and urgent but not yet frustrated.

"He has been in this world only four days, and yet you cannot wait?" asked Sha're, incredulous.

"If there is any possible danger, we should act before it becomes necessary," said Anise earnestly. "We cannot know how long it will take."

"There is nothing to learn," protested Sha're. "He is a child, no different from hundreds of others I have seen."

"He has all the knowledge of the symbiotes who conceived him," said Anise bluntly. "It is possible that it will not express itself for months, even years, but it will do no harm to check."

"How dare you!" said Sha're. "Leave me be, for a week at least! He is my child as well, and I will not have him treated so."

Anise looked about ready to depart, but she paused to say, "It will not be a choice eventually."

"Do not treat me as ignorant or mindless," said Sha're, nearly growling out the words. "Do you think I know not what danger there may be? But I will not be as unfeeling as you wish me to be. Now go!"

Anise barely nodded her head before walking out, not giving Jolinar and Sam even a slight glance.

Sha're finally saw them, and her face relaxed a little. "Sa'm, Jolinar, come please," she said.

"She is not the most pleasant of us," commented Jolinar, coming to Sha're's side.

"No?" asked Sha're, a tight little tilt of her head.

"No," said Jolinar. Then, with a sigh, "But I am continually assured that she does not mean ill. I am not sure I believe it."

"Oh, I do not doubt the soundness of her reason," said Sha're. She reached out to touch Jolinar's hand, "But please, clear my mind of such thoughts, for I do not wish to dwell on them anymore."

Jolinar glanced down at Sha're's friendly touch, but neither said nor did anything about it. Instead, she looked back up at Sha're's request, and tried to hide a wince. They had nothing good to bring.

_~Ask her about Shifu,~ _prompted Sam.

"Other than being threatened by our less congenial members, your son looks well," said Jolinar, nodding towards Shifu's fuzzy dark head.

"Mm, so I think and hope," said Sha're, giving a little smile. "Would you like to hold him?"

Jolinar's eyebrows rose a little, and she hesitated for a second. Sam wondered if she had ever held a child before—did Tok'ra have children? "I would be honored," Jolinar finally said.

Sha're smiled, and offered the tiny bundle to Jolinar. Taking him into a secure hold, Jolinar looked down at the baby with a deep appreciation. "He does look well," she said, imitating Sha're and putting a slight rock into her hold. "But is he not hungry?"

"Oh, is he suckling his thumb again?" asked Sha're, leaning over to look. "He does that continually, but for a small babe it is fine. He has already fed well today, so I do not know why he does it."

"Hmm," acknowledged Jolinar, still looking at Shifu as she held him. Sam felt a relaxation and contentment begin to flow through Jolinar, but Sam herself felt the warmth and pleasure that children had often given her. She had never been quite ready to have any of her own, but she could not deny that she was very fond of them, at all ages. Perhaps Jolinar felt similar feelings, but was still worried about Abydos at this time—she wasn't even smiling.

"Are you well?" asked Sha're, looking up at Jolinar. "Did your mission go as planned?"

Jolinar looked up, slowing her rocking until it stopped. "It did," she said. "Exactly as expected."

"But you are not pleased," said Sha're.

Jolinar bit the inside of her lower lip, and gave Shifu one last look before handing him back to his mother. Sha're's brow creased as she accepted Shifu back, and though he fussed a little at being rustled again so shortly, he was calm in a moment. "Jolinar?" she pressed.

_~There is no need to hedge around it for her sake,~ _said Sam.

_*I know that, and I had no intention to do it,* _answered Jolinar shortly.

"Our planned mission caused no trouble," she said aloud. "It was the errand on the way back." Taking a breath, she dove in. "We had not yet contacted Abydos to convey your recovery to your father, first because you were still in critical condition, but yesterday when we tried to dial we couldn't connect."

Sha're's face went a little darker. "Yes?"

"We dialed this morning, but there was no response," said Jolinar. "Samantha and I went through to investigate, but there was no one on the planet. No one alive."

Sha're went pale, and stiffened.

"Your people are not dead," Jolinar went on quickly. "The village was intact, but there was no one but the corpses of dead Jaffa and marks that a Goa'uld ship exploded."

"What is this?" Sha're whispered, all the health fading from her face.

Jolinar took a step closer, her face showing all the worry she had just recently tried to hold in. "There were two Goa'uld fighting on Abydos, but they were not fighting against your people. One of them was an ally of Ba'al, the other one an enemy of Apophis—it is our fault that Ba'al and any of his allies knew about your world. It appears as if your people were taken captive, but by which one we don't know."

Sha're's head dipped, hiding the welling of her eyes. "Mai'tac," she murmured, barely audibly.

Jolinar stood, not sure what to do next. "We will do what is in our power to find them, I swear to you," she said quietly. "It was our recklessness that led to this, it will be ours to make it right."

"You will bring my father back to me," said Sha're, looking up with a lone wet streak down her cheek.

"Yes," said Jolinar.

"I will hold you to that," said Sha're, the barest hint of a tremble in her voice.

_~May I?~ _asked Sam. Jolinar silently closed her eyes and transferred control. "Sha're, I am so sorry," Sam said, reaching for Sha're's hand.

"It is not all your fault," Sha're said softly, not rejecting Sam's hand. She looked up, meeting Sam's pained look. "It is but more of the evil in this life, striking out against those I love."

Sam's eyes shut for a moment, and she squeezed Sha're's hand. "We'll fix this," she said. "We can't let them do this to us."

Sha're shook her head lightly, a tear falling from her chin onto Shifu's head where she brushed it off with a finger. "No," she agreed.

"We will fight," said Jolinar, coming forward again and looking Sha're square in the eye.

There was a pause, and a little of Sha're's color returned after the shock. She looked down at Shifu, and stroked his head again as if another tear had fallen. Then, taking a deep breath, she looked back up. "I wish to be alone with my son now," she said in a steady voice.

Jolinar nodded, bowing her head a little and turning away. "Be well," she said, just as Sam was about to ask for a farewell.

"I will," Sha're answered.

Then they left her. Jolinar had not planned where to go, so for a few moments they stood in the hall outside the infirmary, darkly brooding.

_~I hated that,~ _said Sam, giving her gut reaction without extra thought or words.

_*Never again,* _swore Jolinar. _*I do not ever again want to see such a face, cause such a face with such news.*_

_~We're agreed on this, then?~ _asked Sam. _~Look for them no matter what the Council says?~_

_*We shan't even ask the Council,* _said Jolinar. _*They must know of what happened, but I shall not make the request knowing that it would be denied. And if by chance, our missions take longer than scheduled, there will be plenty of plausible reasons to offer for it—they will not be suspicious.*_

Sam almost responded with a dark half-laugh. _~Moonlighting, then.~_

_*I am not familiar with that usage,* _said Jolinar. _*But it does not matter.*_

_~What about Martouf and Lantash?~_

Jolinar paused, saying nothing.

Sam took that moment to wonder a few things. Why Jolinar had let herself care for Sha're, to the point where she was ready to protect even her feelings; if Martouf and Lantash knew all of Jolinar's secrets, and if theirs was a truly open relationship; what exactly the nature of this mission was, and how would the Tok'ra would consider it if they found out.

Jolinar did not spend long thinking, though. _*If they ask, I will not evade or deceive,* _she said. _*But though they might feel duty-bound to disapprove and report, I cannot lie to them.*_

Sam agreed, glad to have that cleared up. _~And now?~_

_*Nothing important can be done now, as you know,* _Jolinar said. _*So what do you think is next?*_

_~Bath, food, bed,~ _said Sam, sighing. _~I shall be glad of them all.~_

Jolinar agreed, and they made their way accordingly. Today was yet another long day that indicated more to come.

—

**Author's Notes:** You may have noticed that the gate was upright when Sam and Jolinar came through. Considering that the Goa'uld usually rely on gate travel, I would assume that Heru'ur would reset the gate after beating Quetesh and not finding Amonet, just in case he wanted to go back there.


	20. Moonlighting

**Chapter 19 - Moonlighting**

Martouf was surprised when Jolinar told him that she was departing a day early to prepare for the mission to escort Dru'ri and Reyfa to the latest Goa'uld outpost that they had recovered. Jolinar said shortly that she just wanted all the options to be covered, though, and nothing more was said.

Once through the gate, it didn't take long to see the type of mission they would be dealing with.

_~So now?~ _asked Sam. She and Jolinar had spent their day of rest contemplating the situation, and had determined that Heru'ur would be their first priority. As a powerful enemy of Apophis, it did not seem likely that he wished to take Abydos; Quetesh, on the other hand, had few slaves or worlds. If they could eliminate Heru'ur from the list, things would be much simpler.

Jolinar drew out the notepad device with all the latest information that the Tok'ra sent with their operatives. A few touches to the screen, and up came an interactive map of the worlds that Heru'ur controlled.

_~Wow,~ _said Sam, for a moment overcome by the vastness of just this one Goa'uld's domination. And the SGC thought to destroy all the Goa'uld?

_*We need not look at all of this,* _said Jolinar, flicking a few buttons and switches to narrow the parameters. _*The Tok'ra do not usually put operatives on slave worlds unless there is reason to suspect a strategy involving them, but we do know their locations.* _She brought up a few, scanning the most recent reports on activities, but found nothing.

_~So are we going to watch all these for news of the arrival of new prisoners?~ _asked Sam.

_*Yes,* _said Jolinar. _*These worlds have not had a change in many months, so anything new would be of interest to us. Of those worlds where there are no Tok'ra, though, we will have to be more active.*_

_~Well, can we assume that after three days there will be something?~ _asked Sam. Jolinar gave a wordless response. _~Right, there would be no point in moving them from place to place unless they were high risk or of bigger importance.~_

Jolinar copied down the remaining addresses and moved into the tree-line. Opening the case that she had brought for this mission, she pulled out the uniform of a Goa'uld underling and began to change into it. This one was less "god-like" and more subservient; high-ranking servants would not be sent to a slave world, nor were they to be found there.

After squeezing the black skirted long-coat over body-tight black pants and sleeveless vest, Sam gave a little sigh and then gave herself over to being part of yet another role. Jolinar took a moment to accustom herself to the outfit and all it signified, then put the case into a secure location and walked back to the DHD. Sam had to admit, this outfit was less regal than last time but it felt almost comfortable.

Jolinar dialed the gate, and soon they were through.

Abruptly, Sam was glad that she had buried her mind behind Jolinar's, as she saw how vast the settlement on this world was. It had never crossed her mind to think of how many slaves each Goa'uld would need to keep up a life like that, not only for necessities but for all the construction of ships and bases. All this time they had been focused on the Jaffa, or the populations of a few worlds, nothing beyond that. This gate had, oddly enough, been set up on a small hillock in a valley probably twenty or more miles wide. It was shallow and nearly flat, but as it curved towards the top every dwelling could be seen, and there were thousands of them.

_*This place does not serve a huge purpose in the Goa'uld structure,*_ commented Jolinar. _*They are probably artisans, or possibly this could be merely a breeding colony.*_

Ambling her way forward, slightly swinging her arms along with the leather coat, Jolinar approached the nearest Jaffa leader, affecting an ease along with her elegance.

He bowed his head. "We were not expecting one of you," he said.

"Then there is no recent development of any kind?" asked Jolinar, glancing over the valley.

"None, as expected," said the Jaffa. "Is not the scheduled appearance in many weeks?"

"Our lord does not subscribe to mere mortal schedules," said Jolinar with a lazy smile. "That is all." This being finished, she walked past him to the DHD and dialed out.

_*Strike one,* _she said.

Sam would have raised her eyebrows in appreciation if she could. This could work.

The next planet was composed of large farming plots, and the Goa'uld servant in charge ogled Jolinar quite thoroughly before revealing that, no, there was no news to report. Sam could feel that, had she not considered the mission more important, Jolinar would gladly have ended his eyesight for good.

There were only a few more of Heru'ur's worlds that were solely devoted to his slaves, and on all of them Jolinar and Sam struck blank. Even after making a few more dangerous trips onto other more likely worlds, it seemed that Heru'ur was doing nothing but preparing for war.

_*It is a shame that we cannot reveal these findings to the Tok'ra,* _said Jolinar. _*Our operatives have not the ability to make such a tour as we have; it would be of use for them to understand the broader scenario. But it must be lost.*_

By the end of the day, they returned to the original world with absolutely nothing. _~We didn't check everywhere, I know, but Heru'ur didn't seem like a big possibility in the first place from what you've said,~_ said Sam as they settled down for the night, once again in Tok'ra garb.

Jolinar said nothing.

_~What is it?~ _asked Sam.

_*In some fashion, I had wished for the solution to be with Heru'ur,* _said Jolinar.

_~Why?~ _asked Sam, tired but leaping at the chance for Jolinar to be open without being forced to be so.

_*For one, Heru'ur would not have been so careful about a mere few thousand new slaves,* _said Jolinar, lying back on the mat under the stars. _*And infiltrating Quetesh's dominion will prove more difficult; she has only a few servants, and they will likely be known to her Jaffa.*_

_~And?~ _asked Sam.

_*There is no and,*_ said Jolinar.

_~Really?~_

_*I am weary, Samantha, and I wish to rest.*_

Sam sighed. _~All right, then. Reyfa will be here early tomorrow, and she may be suspicious if we look tired. But Jolinar, I don't know what you're so secretive about, but I think I'll need to know it someday.~_

_*And I hope you will not need to,* _said Jolinar.

Nothing further to say, they both fell sleep almost immediately.

ooooooo

Daniel had to admit, of all of his teammates, Mckay was the best one to get stuck with for a long period of time. No, he had to quantify that—as long as Mckay had something to do. The night out with Dixon and his family had gone over well. Dixon had two sons and a girl, all under eight, and they had been all over the team. Jack had ended up playing soccer with James and Bobby Dixon, and Abby had gravitated between Teal'c and Mckay—putting makeup on the former's bald head, and working at getting reactions from the latter. Daniel had been surprised but not displeased, and had spent most of the evening either observing the hijinks or talking with Dixon's wife Clara.

The only unfortunate repercussion had been that Abby Dixon, who had enjoyed climbing up on Mckay's lap and giggling at his disturbed and uncomfortable faces, had also been carrying a light virus. Mckay hadn't noticed anything the day after, but after Dixon's revelation this morning he had become frantic with worry—so much so that his scientific comrades evicted him from the lab. Not because he was contagious, but because his frequent temperature taking and downing of vitamins drove them nuts.

Daniel had offered sanctuary in his own lab, which though Mckay balked at the dustiness that could aggravate any symptoms, he eventually accepted out of necessity. Daniel could pretty much ignore him, unlike when Jack or Teal'c hung around. Jack, because Daniel kept looking up to see him juggling his paperweights or poking at things on the shelves. Teal'c, because his absolute stillness and silence were worse than noise.

While Daniel was looking at more of the text from the device that had skewered Jack's shoulder in the gate room, he had no idea what Mckay was up to. Whatever it was, that tablet computer of his was getting a lot of work.

There was a knock on the door, and Dixon walked in as soon as Daniel looked up. "Thought I'd find him here," he said, nodding towards Mckay.

"Yes, what?" asked Mckay without looking from his work.

"Phone call," said Dixon, nodding to the wall phone.

"Really?" asked Mckay.

"No, I have an alien device that measures energy," said Dixon dryly.

Mckay didn't answer, but instead grabbed a disinfectant wipe from the container near him and used it to pick up the phone.

"Yes, hello?" asked Mckay, putting it just next to his ear.

Daniel watched, and saw as Mckay's face went confused and then bewildered all in a second.

"No, why?" he asked. Pause. "I don't do dancing."

Daniel's eyebrow rose, and he looked to Dixon in a little confusion.

"Yes, well, we probably have a mission that day too," continued Mckay. He listened for a moment. "Um, maybe? Look, we can talk about it then, right? Okay. Okay. No, I won't forget. I promise. Okay. Bye." He hung up and put the newly clean phone back on its stand.

"Who was that?" asked Daniel.

"Abby," said Dixon, shrugging. "She has extra tickets for her dance recital."

"She's two!" said Mckay. "How can she have a dance recital at two?"

Ignoring Mckay, Dixon shook his head and walked out.

Daniel, a little surprised, just sat for a moment. While it had been no surprise that Mckay's tone had been half-sighing, he still treated her with more respect than 90% of the world.

"I don't get kids," muttered Mckay, dropping the wipe into the trash can next to him.

"She likes you," commented Daniel, going back to work.

"And I don't get that," said Mckay. "How is it that the only women who like me are too young and ones I tried to avoid?"

"Fate," said Daniel. He looked up to meet Mckay's look, blinking innocently.

Mckay got the joke finally, and then just sighed and looked back down at his work. Daniel half-smiled to himself.

ooooooo

The gate activated early in the morning as the fog still lay on the forested valley, and Reyfa came through with a wide grin on her face. Like Jolinar, she was in the traditional off-world gear of a Tok'ra but carried an extra case of equipment.

Jolinar stepped forward, and then stopped short. Right behind Reyfa, Anise came through the gate before it shut down with a final last flash.

"Everything good?" asked Reyfa.

"I did not know that Anise would be joining us," said Jolinar, barely refraining from a frown. "Why am I needed if you are already accompanied?"

Anise stepped forward, her own off-world gear a little more fitting than the Tok'ra usually preferred, but nothing compared to her on-base dress. She was almost as tall as Sam, but held herself so that she looked Jolinar in the eye. "It was a last minute change—of no problem, I assume, unless you are a stickler to the plan, which would certainly be breaking type."

"It was only a question, not a protest," said Jolinar in a steely tone, her own gaze just as cool on Anise.

"I only come because my previous project ended early and this seemed like it would prove interesting," said Anise with a light sigh. "I cannot imagine why you chose to be the escort."

Jolinar did not give an answer.

"How did you find everything yesterday?" asked Reyfa, breaking the film of tension between her two companions.

"The terrain is steep but solid," said Jolinar. "There is shade and a firmly packed trail that winds sufficiently."

"That's good," said Reyfa smiling. "How is Samantha?"

_~I'm fine,~_ informed Sam.

"She is well," said Jolinar. "Dru'ri?"

"She does not enjoy travel," admitted Reyfa, "but will be pleased once we get there, I am sure."

"Freya was willing to let Reyfa do all the research on this matter," commented Anise. "But as Reyfa herself said, the more minds the better—Freya was easily convinced."

"Let us begin," said Jolinar, waving with one hand to the tree-line.

This planet was once the site of a Goa'uld lab, or so the information said, but the rings that made the journey a matter of seconds had been ruined in an earthquake, leaving only the trail that the slaves had traveled. The lab could be seen far off, but it was a good ten or twelve miles of steep ground. And because the exact state of the planet and the trail was unknown, it was advised that no Tok'ra go alone.

"How far did you travel up the trail yesterday?" asked Reyfa as they began.

Jolinar half-lied without hesitation, "It would not have suited to check only the trail—but I did scan the general area and make a few readings."

"I did not expect that you would take it so seriously," commented Reyfa, adjusting how she carried her bags as the trail turned up the hill. "I was not aware that this was how you spent your missions."

"It is not my first choice," admitted Jolinar, keeping her long strides a little slower so as not to get ahead of Reyfa's smaller step. Anise was a few steps ahead and did not join in, something that Jolinar seemed to passively appreciate.

They continued on for a while in silence. The trail was indeed well used but not well-kept, and there were several branches and logs to traverse. The forest around them was old and musty, the bracken deep on each side of the trail, and the buzz of mosquitoes just in the distance. At the moment the air was cool and not breezy, but if the clouds quickly burned off, Jolinar predicted that it could become stuffy.

After nearly a half an hour of silent travel, Sam nudged for Jolinar to let her take over. "Reyfa, do you know anything about the nature of what went on at this laboratory? Is there a reason why it was abandoned?"

Reyfa turned, her face lighting up at speech again. "Did not Jolinar tell you, Samantha?" she asked.

"Jolinar didn't see reason to ask," said Sam, smiling. "I trust there is some information?"

"Oh, we know a fair amount," said Reyfa. "Our source implied only that it fell into disrepair, and since anything of grave importance would have been attended to, we can guess that it was of lesser importance to this Goa'uld."

"Why are the Tok'ra interested, then?" asked Sam curiously.

"We do not have the same priorities as the Goa'uld," said Reyfa with a slight shrug. "We cannot know how to judge its importance on such subjective information. This will only be a two day mission in any case."

Sam nodded, hopping over the next small log. "I guess it's a shame you don't have the death gliders," she said.

"Neither would the Goa'uld," said Reyfa. "Only warriors are trained to fly them—or if by necessity the System Lords themselves."

"Really?" asked Sam. "That seems a waste."

Reyfa grinned. "Indeed."

"Are you at all familiar with Goa'uld ships, Samantha?" asked Anise suddenly.

"Uh, yes," said Sam. "I've flown in a death glider, actually."

Anise turned her head to look back, one curved eyebrow rising significantly. "I assume you were not piloting?"

"No, why?" asked Sam.

"The proper skills take some time to learn, though admittedly the basic functions do not require intensive training," said Anise. "It would not be efficient for either the Goa'uld or the Tok'ra to spend so much training time and expertise for those who may never need it."

"Okay, yes, that makes some sense," said Sam, helping Reyfa get her bags over a particularly large log. "But on Earth, all our teams had basic firearm training just in case, even though we don't expect hostility on other planets."

"You carry weapons to every new planet?" asked Anise, standing to wait for them a few steps beyond. "And you are not considered dangerous on sight?"

Sam smiled a little as all three walked on. "Our weapons do not look like Goa'uld weapons," she said. "Unless we brandish them, most people don't even notice."

"And how often do you brandish them?" asked Anise.

"Well, that depends," said Sam, frowning a little. "The team I was on, especially, had bad luck in that regard."

"Hmm," said Anise, and then nothing.

"What does that mean?" asked Sam curiously.

"I am wondering how much of that bad luck could have been avoided by a higher concentration of non-military personnel," said Anise. "That is all."

Sam could hear Jolinar begin to grumble a little. "You don't like the military," she said, not sure what she thought of Anise.

"They are useful, but only under certain circumstances," said Anise. She turned her head to the trail ahead, and continued walking.

"Are you not military and scientist?" asked Reyfa, looking to Sam.

"Yes," said Sam. "I guess it's a little hard for me to think of them as separate."

Reyfa had a thoughtful look, and then said nothing.

Apart from a few choice comments from Anise, or attempts at conversation from Reyfa, the rest of the day was silent with walking. The sun did rise, burning off the clouds, and soon tiny rivulets of sweat were running through Sam's hair and down her neck. Reyfa's crinkly hair grew a little limp, her steps less perky, and Sam ended up carrying one of her bags as well as Jolinar's. Anise neither said nor showed any sign of tiring, and her hair still lay flat and shiny on her head. Jolinar had taken control again, and rolled her eyes at this observation from Sam.

After stopping at a stream for a quiet lunch break, they continued on a few more miles until they reached their destination. While there was a ziggurat type entrance and gate structure, most of the lab was dug into the hill behind. There was a simple keypad to open the door.

"Well, do we disable it?" asked Sam.

"No need," said Anise, running her hand over the wall near the entrance. "There are writings here, clues for knowing the password."

"Really?" asked Sam. "Why would the Goa'uld make it so easy?"

"It is not," said Anise, tossing a glance at Sam. "Unless one knew advanced science, these clues would be gibberish." A couple more minutes of looking at the text, and then Anise input an eight-digit code. Nothing happened. She input another one, though, and a blueish shield fell.

"So far so good," said Reyfa.

Sam had to admit, by this point she was curious herself and not thinking about yesterday's mission. The corridors were dark, but Reyfa and Anise had tiny Tok'ra versions of flashlights. There were a few corridors to various chambers, but it wasn't a big complex. The first room was empty, but after looking around for a minute, Anise said that it had not always been so—it had been cleaned out. The second room was had a few machines, but the power was run down, and Reyfa opened her first case to begin work on getting them up and running. Jolinar and Anise continued on.

The third room appeared to be for communication, but there were more machines in the fourth room. Anise began exploring that one while Jolinar went to the last room. There was only one machine in this one, semi-circular and filling most of the back wall. The presence of a very large screen indicated some kind of computer, and Jolinar pressed a couple keys. It had barely any power left, and what came up appeared to be records of the workings of this base.

_*As I expected.* _said Jolinar with a sigh.

_~We don't know yet if they weren't working on a weapon,~_ said Sam.

_*I didn't say I was hoping for a weapon,*_ protested Jolinar.

_~You didn't have to,~_ said Sam with a barely cheeky grin.

While the scientists worked on getting the base working again, Jolinar and Sam walked out to explore the nearby area. There was no path to the top of the hill, and when Jolinar reached the top there was nothing in any direction except the gate below. They stood for a moment, silent, listening. Even with the more attuned hearing of a Tok'ra, there was no sound anywhere. They saw a few birds flying, but none were singing.

_*A very abandoned world,*_ said Jolinar. _*Good—our presence will not last long.*_

_~But nothing to do, unless you let me join them,_~ said Sam.

_*Can you read Goa'uld?*_ asked Jolinar.

_~Oh,~_ said Sam. _~But I probably should learn, and now is as good as ever.~_

_*If Anise can tolerate your ignorance,*_ said Jolinar.

_~I don't have to work in her room. And she seems a little, well, I don't know the right word,~_ said Sam, _~but not enough that you should be so antagonistic towards her.~_

_*There are many decades of provocation, believe me,* _said Jolinar.

_~Well, that might make sense if she really doesn't like the military,~_ said Sam.

They stayed up on top for a while, letting the breeze cool their still-flushed face. The sun was at its highest, but it wasn't too hot, especially in the cool cave-structure. The grass was mossy and warm, and they sat on it for a few minutes to soak up the sun. The warmth was much easier when there was a breeze to counter it, and when the sun's rays were not diluted by a canopy of trees.

Later that afternoon, Sam asked Jolinar to help her with the Goa'uld. Even given that Jolinar was trying to be helpful, Sam grew frustrated after an hour. She just wasn't Daniel. Leaving it, she went on to something more serious.

_~Now what do we do about Quetesh?~_

Jolinar sighed, but accepted the turn of subject. _*It is true, I know more of Quetesh than most Goa'uld. As such, I believe I know how to gain my way onto her worlds. We shall try her slave worlds first, of course, and that will be easier.*_

_~Wait, first?~ _asked Sam. _~Where else would the Abydonians be?~_

_*Quetesh is a god of perverse pleasures, so there is no telling to what purpose she will put them,* _said Jolinar grimly.

Sam had to bite back a further question. _~Okay, so you have a plan.~_

_*A long shot, but yes,* _said Jolinar. _*We will speak of it further when the time comes.*_

As there was nothing more for Jolinar to do, Sam went back down to the Goa'uld database to practice what Jolinar had taught her of Goa'uld. Not only was she having difficulty with the language itself, but the whole new alphabet. It didn't help that this database was hardly at a third-grade reading level.

After a little while, before Sam had gotten completely frustrated again, Anise came into the chamber.

"Jolinar?" she said.

"Samantha, actually," said Sam, turning around.

Anise nodded, a little bit of hardness on her face dissipating. "Good."

"What's your problem with Jolinar?" asked Sam.

"I do not understand," said Anise swiftly, frowning.

"You two seem to have a bit of rivalry going on, which doesn't quite make sense," said Sam, her hand moving back and forth to indicate what she was talking about. She wasn't being quite honest—she had a good idea, she just wanted to hear it from Anise.

"It is nothing personal," said Anise lightly. "She is warrior, among other things, and I am not—also our philosophies beyond those two points are often just as opposite."

"Ah," said Sam, nodding. "What did you come here to say?"

"You are not carrying your communication device," said Anise, stepping forward and handing it to Sam. "The Tok'ra dialed the gate and tried to contact you."

"Oh," said Sam, taking it. "Thank you."

"Perhaps it would be better to be careful next time?" said Anise with just a slightly raised eyebrow. She turned, and left the room.

_~They probably want you,~_ said Sam, giving control to Jolinar.

"Yes?" asked Jolinar into the device.

"_We did not wish to disturb you on your mission," _came Ren'al's voice through the Tok'ra radio.

"There is nothing to interrupt," answered Jolinar.

"_As we suspected, good,"_ continued Ren'al. _"Then you should know, your next mission may be a little more engaging. You remember Cordesh, of course. We had removed him from his host and were attempting to access his memories, but he escaped custody by forcibly taking a host."_

Both Sam and Jolinar flinched. "And?" asked Jolinar.

"_We know that he has not yet escaped the planet,"_ said Ren'al. _"But we also know that he took supplies, and as a former member of the Council he is well aware of the layout of the planet. We expect that he is planning some sort of subterfuge or attack in order to reach the gate."_

"I will be there tomorrow, then," said Jolinar after a second's pause.

"_That is most welcome," _said Ren'al. _"Your first-hand knowledge of this type of operation will be useful."_

As Jolinar put the radio back in her pocket, she sighed a little. _*There may be a slight delay in our other plans,* _she said. _*I had a feeling that we could not keep them up.*_

_~It won't take too long, I'm sure,~ _said Sam.

_*You have not tried to track anyone before,* _commented Jolinar. _*Especially across a desert planet.*_

Sam did have to agree on that point. For herself, she was willing to be patient for a little as they planned to rescue the Abydonians, but she didn't know if that would last if she saw Sha're again soon. She could only deal with one issue at a time, though, and so decided to face that bridge when she came to it. Which would be tomorrow. Time flew when there were missions to be undertaken.

—

**Author's Notes:** Just a couple small ones for this chapter. Firstly, any hostility or disapproval you may feel going in Anise/Freya's direction is entirely biased because of Jolinar's personal relationship—Sam, obviously, never met her without Jolinar's emotions being present. Anise may be a little tactless, but I think she's a very interesting character and doesn't deserve the abuse from some parts of fandom. Secondly, and more importantly, the issue of Tok'ra communication. We don't get a clear picture of this in the show, and indeed at times it seems almost contradictory. At some point in the show, it's very difficult to get a hold of the Tok'ra in the field without physically contacting them—judging by Tok'ra technology and other hints, however, my deduction was that they had more immediate and thorough communication before Cordesh's betrayal blew their security. As that didn't happen in this AU, their network is still intact.

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	21. New Terrain

**Chapter 20 - New Terrain**

At the SGC, Mckay was at last no longer concerned about getting sick, and quickly began moving his stuff out of Daniel's lab. As he didn't make any comments about it while doing it, though, Daniel considered it an all-around pleasant experience.

"Doctor Mckay, Doctor Jackson," said Hammond by introduction, stepping into the doorway.

Both men looked up at the same time, saying, "Yes?"

"Both of you came to me separately on the issue of staffing here at the SGC," said Hammond, "and while I didn't promise anything, I considered and discussed the issue with my superiors. After last year's evaluation, it became clear that many disasters have been thwarted through the various scientific fields."

Mckay's face lit up, but Daniel didn't have enough information. "So what have you decided?"

"We will be recruiting more scientists in the following months, and would appreciate your recommendations for possible subjects," said Hammond. "As you both know, your own participation was nearly accidental, but we hope to achieve equal results again through your advice."

Mckay frowned.

"You have a problem, Doctor Mckay?" inquired Hammond.

"What criteria should we be considering?" asked Mckay.

"Scientists with a knack for seeing outside the box, high up in their field," said Hammond. "Use your judgment, with what you know from working here."

"Yeah, that might be a problem," murmured Mckay.

Hammond nodded, and left the room.

"What is it?" asked Daniel to Mckay.

"Oh, just that the reason I hated my colleagues before coming here was that they were close-minded and idiots," said Mckay simply. He paused. "Actually, things haven't changed that much."

Daniel held back from commenting on that last bit, and tried to ignore it. "I suppose that makes sense," he said, leaning on his elbows on his desk. "It's a strange job, you have to admit that."

"Yeah, but how hard is it for archaeologists to learn that their myths are real?" asked Mckay. "It's trying to figure out how new elements and technologies work that really requires ingenuity."

"Possibly," said Daniel. "But the archaeological side is no piece of cake, I can tell you."

"So what, you know of anyone you'd offer a job here?" asked Mckay, picking up his final things and pausing on the way out the door.

"Not really," admitted Daniel. "I was kind of shunned—the only people who I think might still be willing to believe me are my old archaeology professor and my grandfather. Otherwise, I'd have to make sure that the military didn't say who made the recommendation when they send their guys."

"Hm," said Mckay, a little distantly, and left the room.

Daniel didn't have anything else he was doing at the moment, so his mind was easily led off track by Hammond's request. He wasn't sure he wanted to spend a lot of time thinking about his days back in the real world of archaeology, all the friends he had alienated, all the relationships he'd wittingly or unwittingly destroyed through his extreme passion and dedication to his theories. Not to mention all the abuse he'd faced from people he thought would have been more open. It hadn't been a kind world, and even the kinder people in it had quietly faded out of his life.

Perhaps Dr. Jordan, though—Daniel hadn't seen the man in nearly three years now, mostly out of cowardice in being unsure of how he'd be received. But he had always loved the man and thought he deserved to know that there was a bigger world out there, and he had a gut feeling that Dr. Jordan would love it too. Who knew, maybe he had some assistants who would be promising as well. Certainly Daniel remembered a couple.

Moving on to the business he had scheduled for today, Daniel's last thought on the issue was that Mckay's choices would be far more interesting than his own. Daniel knew the man had layers beneath that crust of arrogance and paranoia, and he tried to keep an eye for when that crust might crack and reveal something. This looked like it might be one of those times.

ooooooo

By the time Sam and Jolinar made it back to the gate, the sun was high in the sky again and they were a little worn. It had been an easier trail going down, though, and they reached the home-world ready to start their next mission. First, though, there were duties.

Shifu was sleeping near Sha're when they reached her room, and Sha're herself was sitting up and reading a Tok'ra screen.

"Sa'm," she said, lacking her usual smile. "Jolinar."

Looking around to see that no one was near, Sam drew near to her. "Sha're," she said in a low tone. "We have been progressing in our search for your people, but we have only been able to do it without the knowledge of the Tok'ra."

Sha're's eyes widened a little, but she nodded. "That is good."

"We don't know anything yet, but we haven't hit a dead end either," said Sam.

Sha're sighed. "I see. But why are you returned so soon?"

"Jolinar's skills are needed here," said Sam with a little quirk of her mouth. "This one may take some time."

"You will be nearby, though?" asked Sha're.

"Not exactly," said Sam. "How have you been?"

Sha're's head wobbled from side to side "Here and there," she said. Looking down at her screen, she said, "I have been furthering my reading skills, though, and learning what the Tok'ra will let me of their history."

Sam smiled. "Just think of all you'll be able to tell Daniel."

Sha're gave a weak smile. "Yes, that will be very nice."

"Jolinar sends her good wishes as well," said Sam. There was an uncomfortable pause as neither knew how to end the conversation. Sha're flashed a half-smile and then looked back to her screen, and Sam and Jolinar left.

Martouf and Lantash were not on the base that day, and so they continued on to meet with Ren'al in a small Tok'ra chamber.

"Jolinar, I am glad that you were able to return," the older Tok'ra said on Sam's arrival.

"Anything for the Tok'ra," said Jolinar, but only Sam knew how ironically meant was that statement.

Ren'al nodded, bringing up a view screen in front of them. "Of all of us, you are most familiar with Goa'uld hunting tactics and avoiding them; our assumption is that Cordesh will base his escape and possible attacks on similar tactics."

"A good assumption, but we will see in the fact," commented Jolinar.

Ren'al nodded, pulling up the records from the night of the escape. The Tok'ra did not have security cameras, but through their various other forms of sensors they had been able to give a rough construct of what had happened. Cordesh had been restrained, had been sullen and unresponsive for the entirety of their weeks-long interrogation, and had suddenly and violently made his escape just two days ago by taking a new host and killing the symbiote inside. Kurlsa had been his name—neither had known him well.

Jolinar's face grew grim as she looked and listened to the evidence. "He's desperate," she said. "Which means he'll fall back to natural behavior instead of the facade he's been portraying for the past years."

Ren'al nodded. "That was our assessment."

"Samantha and I will attempt to track him," said Jolinar. "But if that fails, we shall patrol."

Both Tok'ra nodded to each other, and Ren'al left Sam and Jolinar with the evidence.

_~This is a desert planet, how can you track anyone?~ _asked Sam.

_*It is not your idea of tracking,* _said Jolinar. _*There is much more deduction and guesswork based on the idea of patterns and logic rather than actual evidence. Cordesh is intelligent and in possession of all his faculties, given by the steps he took to ensure his success. He took Sho'nar, a younger host, and various supplies.*_

_~So you're saying, we should be able to guess where he'd go by guessing where anyone would go?~_

_*With a fair amount of doubling back where he tried to throw us off, I'm sure,* _said Jolinar. _*It will not be as easy as it may sound.*_

_~And our supplies?~_ asked Sam.

_*We will travel light,*_ said Jolinar. _*Speed will be on our side, and quickness of thought.*_

_~Really?~ _asked Sam. _~Why?~_

_*I have been trailed by ashraks for the past century—apart from knowing how to escape them, I know what to expect from others trying to escape,*_ said Jolinar darkly.

She downloaded all the relevant information into her small device and returned to her chamber to pack. No need to wait—they were fresh and ready to finish this once and for all. Jolinar packed only one change of clothes and a blanket that seemed almost suede in texture. Passing by the Tok'ra storehouse, she filled the rest of the space in the small pack with dried rations. Traditionally they were reconstituted with water, but Jolinar warned Sam that it would be difficult enough to find drinking water on this desert planet. Sam didn't care; military rations might as well all be the same, and she didn't have gourmet tastes.

Finally, though, they were ready to begin.

Ringing up to the surface, Jolinar first took a long look around. Sam could sense the naquadah of many Tok'ra nearby, but they were entirely out of sight. Security had been tightened, and they were not only here by the rings but in a thorough perimeter around the gate. It felt strangely comforting for that short moment as Jolinar scanned the surroundings.

Cordesh had taken off to the west and no one had followed him. Jolinar reached the edge of the Tok'ra patrol area and crouched down. There were a few bushes and brush-weeds here, but mostly just a plain of sand. The winds had blown any normal tracks away.

_*Here is where things could go wrong.* _Jolinar followed the horizon, looking at the slopes of the hills and dunes and the various ups and downs. Glancing down at the map, she noted where cliffs and water supply were greatest.

Sam waited and watched, until Jolinar moved.

Slipping down the sand hill to cross the plain, she commented to Sam. _*I do not see Cordesh going blindly; this early on, he will choose the simplest path.*_

_~This early on?~_

_*It has been some time since he escaped, and he will probably expect to be tracked by now. His later trail will require more deduction.*_

Following the path of least resistance between sand dunes and patches of brush, Jolinar moved quickly across the desert. Today the sun popped in and out of the clouds, leaving the air warm but humid, with no wind.

A few minutes passed, and Jolinar stopped on the edge of a slight drop. Red-brown rock broke the pattern of sand, falling into the next valley between dunes. Squatting at the edge, Jolinar leaned over and stared closely at the five-foot rock face. Sam wasn't exactly sure what the motivation was, until Jolinar leapt smoothly from the top and landed in the sand below. She ran her fingers through the sand, lightly sifting, looking for something—and then she found it.

_*These are newly broken,* _she said. _*The animal life is small on this planet, and even though this rock is softer than some, only a person could cause this.*_

_~Good work,~ _said Sam, admiring. _~I suppose if you were running you would avoid rocks.~_

_*You suppose correctly. But knowing that Cordesh was here does not mean we know where he went. It only means that we can be on the lookout for such mistakes, at least for now.*_

Rising, glancing around, Jolinar again chose the easiest path to get away from the Tok'ra base. Despite how flat it looked when near the Stargate, the home-world was speckled and dimpled once you got close. Here and there were spiky patches of hostile plants, stones just hidden below the sand's surface, grey sand to mix with golden.

Jolinar followed a winding path between landmarks as the sun reached its peak and wavered slightly before descending just in front of them. Once she stopped to examine a dent in the sand near a patch of brush, and after finding a few sticks arranged in a certain pattern, she told Sam that this was where Cordesh had tried to get water.

_~Really?~ _ asked Sam. _~Is that similar to where you use the moisture that rises from the sand in the night?~_

_*Indeed,* _said Jolinar. _*The presence of plant life, however hardy, would indicate more water than elsewhere; it was a smart choice, though he did not cover his tracks.*_

_~Do you think he's kept up the same pace as us?~_ asked Sam.

Jolinar stood up, brushing the sand from her hands and squinted as she looked into the setting sun. _*Possibly. He would be on the run at first, so perhaps a quicker pace, but I do not believe he would keep it up. Still, his host is young and strong.*_

Sam spared a moment to remind herself that this wasn't just catching a traitor, it was a rescue mission to save the kidnapped host. _~And, how long do you think he will elude both us and the base?~_

_*A couple days at most,* _said Jolinar. _*Whatever plan he has to get into our base or through the gate will not be long-term—I am sure he was not planning what he would do after escape. He will grow impatient and afraid.*_

_~Is there a place on this planet where he could hide and wait?~_ asked Sam.

_*Not for long,* _said Jolinar. _*But if we are lucky he will do so.*_

_~Yeah, when has that ever happened?~_ said Sam with a sigh.

They didn't stop to eat, but Jolinar took a bite as they went every once in a while. A couple more slight clues were found, but that was nothing special at this point. After a while, the landscape went smooth for a mile or so, with nothing to distinguish it. Jolinar stood at the edge for a moment, consulting her map and her mind.

_*There is a small source of standing water to the south of us,* _Jolinar said, looking to the left. _*It is far off, but it is possible that Cordesh would choose it. Further west is only more desert, but to the north of us is a much craggier landscape.*_

_~Hmm,~ _said Sam, getting into the hang of things. _~How far have we been traveling?~_

_*Perhaps twenty miles,*_ said Jolinar. _*The black lake is another thirty or more miles when not as the bird flies, but only ten miles to the north there is a section of cliffs.*_

_~Just why do you have all this information if you live underground?~ _asked Sam.

_*There are those of us who study planets' topography,*_ said Jolinar. _*It is an important part of defense systems.*_

_~Hmm. I do not know Cordesh,~_ said Sam. _~But my training would have me go first to avoid capture, and water is too obvious a choice.~_

_*An excellent observation, but I do not believe Cordesh is military-minded,* _said Jolinar. _*He has been among the Tok'ra since birth, but even though his mind seems to have turned with age, he has never sought military power or experience like most Goa'uld.*_

_~So, he might put survival first?~_

_*Might,*_ said Jolinar. _*That being said, he has the memory of the Tok'ra which contains all our tactics, one being that we accept hardship for necessity's sake. I believe he will go to the north.*_

_~Let's hope we're right,~_ said Sam.

Another hour passed, and the land grew more difficult to traverse. Rocks that formed the basis of dunes made them taller, but the sand slid away when climbed. Not only that, sometimes there were thorny plants uprooted when Cordesh had used them as grips, but had since been covered by sand and bit into Jolinar's hands as she climbed. That didn't improve her mood.

Neither did the heat or lack of good hydration. Some time in the late afternoon, Jolinar's water supply ran out. It wasn't a big deal for her and Sam, as they planned to collect more that night, but it certainly made the frustration of so few clues much greater. As Jolinar had predicted, Cordesh grew increasingly more aware of his trail, but he was no expert at hiding it even then. It helped that the landscape provided few options, but Sam often thought fondly of woodland training exercises where cracked branches and footprints were easily discovered.

Jolinar remained confident in her determination, grit her teeth against the hot wind that picked up in the evening and pressed forward. _*We are catching up, slowly,*_ she said.

Sam wondered how she could know for sure.

Eventually, though, even the sharper vision that Jolinar had given Sam couldn't be trusted not to miss clues. The sun dropped behind the horizon, and with such a landscape, the light soon followed. The moon was a bare sliver in the sky and the starlight, though brilliant beyond that usually found on Earth, was just not enough. Finally, just as they were in the middle of a labyrinth of shallow canyons lined with sand, Jolinar stopped to set up camp. Finding the nearest spot with the most sand and brush, she laid out the blanket she had brought. Then, digging a hole a couple feet deep, she set up a tent and bowl device to collect water through the night.

Sam was surprised to find that she and Jolinar had traveled about thirty miles from the base, considering how she felt. She had almost forgotten the added strength and endurance that Jolinar gave her. Still, the idea of being 24 miles on a straight line from the base was pretty impressive—and a little scary. Unlike on earth, where helicopters or trucks could swoop in to nearly everywhere in a few hours, she and Jolinar were on their own. If there was an emergency on the base, it would take at least 7 hours to get back, and anything could have happened. Jolinar liked the isolation, though, and Sam had to agree a little—the challenge was nice.

Before they went to sleep, Jolinar gave up the control to Sam, and Sam didn't drop off immediately. It was a cool evening, a little moist with the growing cloud-cover, but there were patches of deep and starry black. It was a view Sam had forgotten could exist, living most of her life in cities where the building and street lights seemed designed to reach up into the sky and keep the dark away, ignoring the stars that sought to shine down.

_*For a scientist of the skies, you indulge in a simple idea of them,* _commented Jolinar quietly.

_~I first got into astrophysics because I loved the stars,~ _said Sam. _~It's easy to get bogged down in the details after a while, but I still stargaze sometimes.~_

Jolinar didn't answer, and there was a moment where Sam felt a semblance of harmony surround both their consciousnesses. It was strange, given the gravity of the situation; it was counterintuitive. It was welcome. Tomorrow they could worry again.

ooooooo

Daniel's hand hesitated above his phone, and he withdrew it and frowned at the list. Apart from his usual duties today, he had taken an extra-long lunch break to go over what Hammond had assigned him. He hadn't been underestimating anything when he told Mckay that he could only think of two people who might hear an offer from him. There were a few of his colleagues that he had once counted as acquaintances, but not for many many years. No, not only would Dr. Jordan have more knowledge of promising archaeologists and anthropologists, he would have the clout to get them to listen.

The problem was, Daniel wasn't so sure that he wanted to make the call. Dr. Jordan was one of the few people who Daniel respected who had never disappointed him, and even though he knew it was just elevating the man on a pedestal, he couldn't shake it off and just call him like an old friend. For a moment he twirled his chair back and forth a little, tapping his pen on the list as if another, easier name would just pop out onto the paper.

Then, almost smacking his own forehead in recognition of his oblivion, he brought up his address book on his computer. How could he have forgotten Catherine? To be sure, they only spoke every month or so, and usually on personal or Stargate issues, but he shouldn't have forgotten that she and Ernest had been archaeologists. Not that he had to extend an invitation to them—they had chosen to reject that last year—but Catherine at least might know some people, and Ernest might remember some old comrades.

Picking up the phone, Daniel quickly calculated what time it was in New York where Catherine lived now, and decided that she'd probably be home. He had just started talking on the answering machine when she picked up.

"_Daniel?"_

"Catherine," said Daniel warmly. "How are you?"

"_Surprised and a little worried at this call—what has gone wrong?"_

"Nothing," said Daniel, then bit his lip, then remembered that Catherine wouldn't realize the untruth. "I actually wanted to ask for your help."

"_Really?" _came Catherine's wary voice.

"Well, I need to get in touch with the archaeology community, and I'm not the whitest sheep of the flock," said Daniel.

"_Neither am I, you should recall,"_ said Catherine. _"In any case, I haven't been active in that area since we brought Ernest back."_

"I just need some contacts, names at the least," he said.

"_What is it, Daniel?"_ asked Catherine, sounding intrigued. _"Some even greater discovery? Can you tell me?"_

"Yes, I can tell you," said Daniel, smiling. "It's nothing major—just building up the department here. Not just mine, also, but most of the sciences."

"_Ah, so your military has finally gotten into its head what got it that gate in the first place," _said Catherine.

"I hope so," said Daniel.

"_Well, Ernest and I will do what we can, but are you really looking for people our age? I would have thought you'd go back to old classmates." _Catherine's words might have been innocent, but Daniel could hear the shrewd probing in her tone.

"We haven't really kept up, Catherine," said Daniel. "In fact, there are a couple I'd be a little afraid to call in case their opinions have festered over the years."

"_Mm," _said Catherine. _"Well, would it hurt to try?"_

Daniel gritted his teeth. "Possibly."

"_You should try your teachers at least; time softens disapproval more easily than frustration or resentment."_

"How did you—" Daniel began, then stopped. "Never mind."

"_I'll send over whatever information I can get in an email,_" said Catherine. _"Good luck Daniel—is there any news on the situation with your friend?"_

There was a pause as Daniel grasped for words, his mouth opening, closing, and then opening again. "Ah, nothing I'd like to talk about."

A pause on Catherine's end, and then she said, _"Take care of yourself, my dear boy."_

"As best I can," said Daniel. "Thanks."

He hung up and sighed. He'd have to make that call to Dr. Jordan after all. By the time he made it through the department of the university, his apprehension was nearly gone. By the time his old professor picked up the phone with the old familiar, _"Who calls?"_, it bounced back, but for a second only.

"Dr. Jordan?" he said. "This is Daniel Jackson."

"_Daniel? Really?" _The tone was surprised, but not indignant. So far so good.

"Yeah, I know it's been a while," said Daniel. "I don't know how welcome this call is, but I needed your advice on something."

"_Daniel, you needn't have been worried,_" said Dr. Jordan, the kindly teaching tone just as he remembered. _"I may think you have wasted your life, but remember who taught you to be independent. I thought you might have given up our profession, though—no controversial papers or quests for artifacts to prove your theory. What have you been doing?"_

Daniel smiled to himself. Oh, where to begin...

—

**Author's Notes:** Not much to comment about on the Tok'ra side, other than the security measures. While they are more advanced than us, the leaps in intuition would be different for such an alien race, so the resulting systems should also be different in fundamental ways.

As for the SGC, this story is bringing to light something that I think was implicit in the show; i.e., when and how they recruited newcomers. It must have happened at some point, but as SG-1 wasn't involved we didn't see it. In this story, the loss of Sam and the process of trying to replace her on SG-1 prompted Daniel to think about the issue himself, and what followed on was as you see it in the story.


	22. Pressure

**Chapter 21 - Pressure**

Sleeping in a desert was no pleasant experience. Sam's first trial, when Martouf and Lantash had joined them, had been on a full sand dune; she now found that despite getting sand in many places, that was a much better choice. Being thoroughly hydrated helped ease the waking process, for one. And here and now, the sand only barely covered the rocks beneath, and during the night even their sufficiently deep spot had disappeared.

Sam's first impression upon waking was of an aching in her left shoulder, and then a tender spot as she tried to move it. Rolling over, frowning and murmuring "Ow," through dry lips, she found that the sand had slipped down the hill and a rough rock poked up behind it. Some of the sand had stayed beneath her legs, so Sam and Jolinar were slanted down and Sam could feel the extra blood in her face. Letting out a huge sigh, Sam lay her head back for a moment.

_*What, in the name of all the stars...*_ came Jolinar's cranky tone shortly after.

_~No, we're not quite upside down,~ _said Sam. _~But our sand ran off; most of it, anyway.~_

_*I shall personally subject whoever chose this planet as home-world to a night on its surface,* _swore Jolinar.

Sam's smile was more a grimace, as she recognized the familiar "I'm gonna kill whoever did this" tone even if culture made it slightly different. _~Cordesh is going to pay,~ _she agreed.

_*Yes, let's not loiter,* _said Jolinar.

Sam sat up, wincing as she rolled her shoulder back, the muscles clenching a little before relaxing enough to move. She felt the tender spot with her other hand, and though she couldn't see it, she could feel that it was pink from the abrasion and might possibly bruise.

_*I can fix that,* _said Jolinar.

Standing up, Sam stretched and shook the sand from herself. The sun was barely over the horizon and so the air was still cool, but thankfully no fog lay over the planet's surface. Picking up the blanket, Sam wrapped it around herself and walked over to where their water had been collected. She squatted down and looked in the bowl, licking her dry lips. Thank god that old trick worked out here. She grabbed the water bottle and filled it, then downed a large sip. The gritty and bitter taste of the sand was washed down, and she immediately felt refreshed.

_~I don't feel like eating,~_ she said, packing up the equipment and standing up.

_*Agreed, we are not hungry yet,* _said Jolinar. _*If we have any fortune at all, Cordesh will not have started his day this early, or even better, he will wander without direction. We have not received any communication from the base, so the guards have seen no change yet.*_

_~I wonder what his plan is,~ _said Sam, transferring control to Jolinar.

_*We can be certain that it does not do the Tok'ra any good,* _Jolinar answered, _*He has no respect for our lives, as we've seen.*_

Sam wasn't sure she wanted to ask the question, but she took the risk. _~Do you have formal mourning for those you lose? Kurlsa, Rosha...~_

_*No,* _said Jolinar. She had been massaging out their stiff shoulder, and now her strokes went a little faster. _*As a culture we just move on.*_

_~That can't be good,~ _Sam said, but not pressing the point.

Jolinar didn't say anything, just finished packing up and began walking towards the trail again. Sam took a moment to wonder how close to humans the Tok'ra mind was, then quickly dismissed it. Now wasn't the time.

After returning to the last spot where they had guessed Cordesh had been, Jolinar reassessed the landscape. _*It's impossible to know when he came here,* _she said, _*which is unfortunate. Had it been later last night, he would have chosen a different path than this morning.*_

_~Okay, but what are the consequences?~ _Sam asked, trying to see what Jolinar saw. The direction of the sun last night had overshadowed much of the crevices, leaving only the higher ones truly visible, and she definitely understood how today the world appeared entirely different. _~It looks like a main path that way, and the easier path is really on the other side, but will they not lead to the same place in the end?~ _

_*Possibly; a similar end, definitely. But how shall we know, if we find no trace of him, if he has grown more wary or if he did not go that way? We have no time for both.*_

_~Assuming we caught up at all,~ _Sam said, her mind working quickly even at this time of the morning.

_*Right, he would be somewhere in this area as it was growing dark,* _said Jolinar following.

_~Which means he would have settled for the night nearby,~ _continued Sam.

_*Which means he'd leave obvious signs from sleeping,* _said Jolinar. _*Of course, look for where he slept first.*_

Now with a plan, Jolinar quickly moved along the first path, eyes quickly scanning everywhere the sand was thickest. The shadows were still long, but on the opposite side of everything. But the sand was smooth and the brush untouched. Jolinar half-jogged along the top of the stone ridge, following the natural trail for a couple miles before looking ahead and seeing a wide plain of thick brush.

_*Not this way, then,*_ she said before running back along where she'd come. The sun was now up and piercing through the film of cloud cover that still remained.

A half hour later, they were back at the beginning to follow the other trail. It was easier as they had predicted, and the light layer of sand was welcome after the hard stone. Sam had been impressed with the Tok'ra version of combat boots; they were softer and not as thick, but the comfort level was amazing, even after spending all night in them. They also seemed to be absorbent, or maybe well-ventilated, because Sam couldn't tell that her feet had been in them for a full three days now with barely a break.

Ten minutes on the second trail, though, and they found what they were looking for. The dimple of sand where Cordesh had collected water, the sand shifted oddly, even a crushed piece of brush. Confident and determined, they continued on.

The sun rose, and the clues grew thin, Jolinar guessing at even faster speeds in an attempt to catch up even more. What clues they did find, though, seemed fresher, although Sam had to wonder occasionally how much was wishful thinking. Daniel had taught her how delicate this kind of work was, and without scientific equipment even the more advanced and observant Tok'ra couldn't be perfect.

A couple hours into the chase, and Jolinar stopped short. Sam didn't see it at first, but then she was just as caught off guard.

_~Wait a minute...~_ she said.

Jolinar stooped to pick up the bit of clothing caught on the thorn. _*This is a foolish mistake; it must be a lead.*_

_~Can we be sure?~ _asked Sam.

Jolinar didn't answer with her usual firmness, fingering the ragged edges. _*No and yes.*_

_~Damn,~ _muttered Sam.

_*It must be a trick, though,* _said Jolinar, shaking her head. _*Maybe even a double cross, making us doubt our own judgment.*_

_~Okay, so then what about that bit of wet sand that had dried, a quarter mile back?~ _asked Sam.

Jolinar gritted her teeth, looking back over her shoulder where they had come. _*We can't know for sure anymore.*_ Jolinar didn't say anything like "we're screwed", but she might as well have.

_~Damn, damn, damn,~ _said Sam.

_*My sentiments exactly.* _Jolinar stood up and looked once ahead and once back. A warm wind had picked up, slowly ruining any clues they could have gotten from the sand _*The safest thing is to go back and give our trail another look.*_

Sam could feel Jolinar's revulsion at being fooled like this, and even she couldn't seem to see a solution, still caught up in feeling as if her mind had failed her. Finally, she said, _~What's his point?~_

_*Escape,* _said Jolinar. _*What else?*_

_~There isn't any prize he'd want to take on his way out? Otherwise, why not attack the gate?~_

_*Like what?* _asked Jolinar. She had been about ready to start back, but paused, the piece of cloth still in her hand.

_~What would make him accepted to Apophis after he failed in giving the Tok'ra's location?~ _asked Sam back.

_*Of all of us, Garshaw is the most wanted among the Goa'uld, but she is far too protected for any such attempt by one man,* _said Jolinar, as if she was thinking out loud. _*If not her, then I would be the next target.*_

Sam and Jolinar paused. _~No way,~ _said Sam. _~It can't be.~_

_*It does not make sense,* _agreed Jolinar. _*He could have made many attempts by now.*_

Sam silently agreed, but they both knew that there was still something fishy. No other option being available, however, Jolinar turned around and began quickly back along their trail. By now, the sand might have covered up any tracks, but perhaps something might shed light on this.

The wind was now blowing full on them, not too hard or too warm, but with just enough sand to irritate. Sam endured it, but silently wished for her sunglasses and wondered if Reyfa would be interested in working on something like that. Jolinar paused after a couple minutes, looking around where they now stood.

_~Is this it?~ _asked Sam.

_*The landscape is similar,* _Jolinar said, reaching down to gently shift the top layer of sand.

It was likely that the clump of sand left from Cordesh's dripping water would fall apart on contact, but Sam figured that Jolinar would feel it anyway. She was surprised when Jolinar stood up and flung the sand off her hand._ ~What?~_

_*It's just water on sand,* _said Jolinar. _*How could it _possibly_ say anything one way or another?*_

Commiserating for a moment in the frustration, Sam didn't respond. Then, they both jumped as the Tok'ra communicator beeped. Reaching deep into her pocket, Jolinar pulled it out, suddenly curious.

"Yes?" she said, a little shortly but that probably didn't sound all too different.

"_Jolinar, you are needed back at the base immediately," _came the now-familiar voice of Shan'ak, the gate-guarding Tok'ra. He sounded a little breathless.

"What happened?" asked Jolinar, her mood falling sharply.

"_We believe it was Cordesh, but the attack was over before we could see," _he answered. _"He killed another of us, and then was gone before we could do anything."_

"Which way?"

"_To the northwest."_

"We're on it," finished Jolinar, putting the communicator back. She stood up and frowned. _*Northwest. Back towards his trail. He doubled back to fool us.* _Her hand clenched and unclenched.

_~He can't possibly think he can take you down, can he?~ _asked Sam.

Whipping out her tiny energy weapon, Jolinar slipped it over her fingers and marched straight forward, the sun at her back. Sam didn't ask again, not needing to. Jolinar didn't know either, but she also didn't care at this point. Another one of their own had died, and she was going to make sure the bastard got what he deserved for it.

ooooooo

Daniel stepped out of his car and up the steps to the university. He didn't need directions anymore; he had spent a couple years of his life here, he knew exactly where to go. Passing from the sharp summer air into the dusty warmth of the building, he let himself slow down a little. All the young men and women walking by with books and papers in their hands provoked a strange nostalgia in him, making him recall all those days when this one world was big enough. It also made him feel a little old, seeing their fresh faces, but that was no matter.

Climbing up the last flight of stairs, he shifted his file folder to his left arm to knock twice on the door.

"Come in," came Dr. Jordan's voice through the door.

Daniel opened it, and smiled as he walked in, looking around at all the artifacts lying around on towels and newspaper.

"Welcome back," said Dr. Jordan, adjusting his glasses and stepping forward to shake Daniel's hand. "It was so good to get your call."

Since Daniel couldn't reveal anything until Dr. Jordan signed the nondisclosure agreement, their conversation had been nothing more than intriguing. Daniel talked about all the amazing work he had been doing, and how it was so classified he couldn't even talk about it in general terms. Jordan had wanted to know more, and so Daniel had scheduled an appointment. When he asked Hammond for the clearance, Hammond had hesitated, asking Daniel if someone so near retirement would be a wise choice. Daniel had chuckled a little, assuring Hammond that not only was Dr. Jordan not ready for retirement, his wisdom and experience would be invaluable if he accepted. So now Daniel was here.

"Truthfully, I wasn't sure you wanted to hear from me," he said, shaking his old professor's hand firmly. "But Catherine convinced me I should give a try. Catherine Langford?" he added, seeing Dr. Jordan's confusion.

"Ah, the Langfords," Jordan said. "I believe I came across that name when trying to find out where you were, Daniel. Please, take a seat, if you can find one." He waved around at the couple buried chairs, returning to his own seat around the table.

Daniel tucked the file folder under his arm and carefully picked up the bronze helmet on the nearest chair. "Ooh, Minoan?" he said, holding it with the towel as he looked over it.

"We are not quite sure yet," said Dr. Jordan. "But look at the inscription!"

"Linear B—that's strange," said Daniel, frowning and peering closely. "And early Greek?" He glanced to Dr. Jordan.

"No, it's not a translation, unfortunately," said Dr. Jordan. "But we think they may be related."

"Sounds exciting," said Daniel, gently putting the helmet on a nearby shelf and sitting down.

"So, what have you brought for me?" asked Dr. Jordan, nodding towards the file folder.

"Well, unfortunately, before I can tell you more you need to sign this," said Daniel, opening the folder and pushing forward a paper.

"Politics," muttered Dr. Jordan with disapproval, glaring at the page.

"I know," said Daniel, "but this one's worth it."

Dr. Jordan looked up at him from beneath one eyebrow, then reluctantly reached for a pen. He had to push around a couple things to find one, but then he signed. Daniel nearly sighed in relief. He had been more nervous than he admitted, but now he was getting excited. This was what he had always hoped for, to get a chance to prove to his mentor that he wasn't a receptacle of wasted time and effort. He just had never imagined it would actually happen.

ooooooo

The sun was straight over head and blazing down on the desert, piercing through the heat-reflectant Tok'ra suit and adding physical heat to the simmering frustration in Jolinar and Sam. Cordesh was headed straight for them, as far as they could tell. He was baiting them for some unknown reason, using lives as a price he knew they couldn't pass up. The only thing now was—who would find whom first? Would he wait for them in some hollow, or would they pass each other on chance and only the fastest draw would come out alive?

Sam knew that Jolinar's emotions over this whole issue were clouding some things, but she trusted in her experience and expertise to keep alertness and agility still at their highest. She trusted them enough to keep silent and let her work in peace. The news of Cordesh's attack had come just as they were at their closest to the base, and after only three hours they were just over halfway there. No sign of Cordesh, but now they weren't looking for signs.

The landscape had grown all sandy again, large waves of sand everywhere they could look, being gently shaped by the ever-present breeze. It wasn't the perfect place for an ambush, but that didn't mean anything if Cordesh was desperate enough. And given his apparent strategy, that seemed likely.

Jolinar pushed forward at her fastest speed, not quite jogging but near enough, and Sam was grateful for the symbiote's added strength. She had never been weak by any stretch of the word, but neither had she been a runner, either short or long distance. These past two days of tracking under the sun would have been hard on her without Jolinar.

Slipping a little in the sand, Jolinar placed another determined step to get to the top of this tall dune. The sand again gave way again, just as her head peeked over the top, and she slipped down just as an energy blast flew past. The instant smell of burned hair and the sound of singeing suddenly brought everything into focus.

_*Cordesh,*_ hissed Jolinar. She slipped back down the dune and brought up her hand to hold near her chest, ready to aim at any second. Silently, smoothly, she went swiftly to the right until the dune grew shorter. Her hand and the weapon immediately followed her head as she looked around. No one was there.

Not moving, she listened. Sam would have held her breath, but there wasn't breath to hold when Jolinar was in control. There was a slight rushing sound to their left, and Jolinar swung her arm without moving the rest of her body. Crouching, she took one silent step forward, listening.

Ahead there was a flash of dark brown, and Jolinar fired before thinking. It disappeared, and she couldn't know if she hit it. Running up and over the small hillock, she was ready to fire again when she saw a small lithe figure just beyond. With a perfectly aimed shot, she clipped him in the leg and was on him before he was fully down.

One hand still aiming her weapon, she tackled and pinned him to the ground. It was Kurlsa's host and so—Cordesh.

"Fool," she hissed aloud.

"It is the Tok'ra who are fools," he spat at her, eyes flashing with a harsh glare. "It is not my fault that I thought of them as too wary and weak."

"You are trying to provoke me into making a mistake," said Jolinar. "It will not work. Your crimes have been enough, Cordesh; I will not give you a chance."

Cordesh's eyes widened as Jolinar pointed her weapon straight at his forehead, but he didn't struggle.

_~Wait, Jolinar!~ _protested Sam, horrified that Jolinar was just going to shoot him here and now. _~Jolinar, the host!~_

Jolinar paused, her finger still half-pressing the trigger. Sam could feel that every bone in her body wanted to kill Cordesh, wound him, pound out her frustration on him. And Cordesh didn't object. "This is what you wanted?" asked Jolinar in a low voice. "Death?"

"Better than your interrogation!" snarled Cordesh.

Jolinar back-fisted him full on the face with a grimace, knocking him out. Sighing, pulling out her communicator, she spoke into it. "Cordesh is subdued. We will return with him soon." Not even bothering to listen to the answer, she pulled out a syringe to sedate him before throwing the limp body over her shoulder like a heavy sack.

_~What was that?~ _demanded Sam. _~How could you just forget about the host like that?~_

_*I beg pardon,* _answered Jolinar. _*It is an old habit, that is all.*_

Sam was about to respond, but then she paused. This was something that needed much more focused attention after this was all over. She held back and remained silent as they trudged across the sands.

ooooooo

"But, _aliens_?" asked Dr. Jordan, scratching his head. "This, Daniel, I cannot understand."

"It's not as strange as it sounds, really," said Daniel, conveniently forgetting that which was. "Most of them are human—from Earth, actually."

"But after all this time, how can they possibly be similar?" asked Jordan. "I don't pretend to know all about geology and astrophysics, but surely the evolution on another planet would be significantly different even after a couple thousand years. Why should the remains of their cultures require our archaeology?"

Daniel shook his head. "It's—it's not just about that. It's like...if they found the ruins of Atlantis on Earth today, a whole new civilization, wouldn't you be interested?"

Jordan sat back in his chair, looking at Daniel from under his brows. "That goes without question," he muttered.

"That's how I see this," said Daniel, resting his forearms on the table as he leaned forward. "It's whole new worlds out there, whole new peoples. And yes, I know that isn't quite your area, but we can't learn about who these people are now until we help them learn who they once were." He stopped, one hand still hanging in the air.

Jordan looked at him closely, dark grey eyes trying to look past the glasses and see into those open ones opposite. Daniel looked back, expectant and anticipating all at the same time. Jordan took a deep breath and exhaled, picking up the pen from the nondisclosure agreement and putting it back between the clay pot and the gold inlaid death mask where he had found it.

"You say this is a government run facility, military run?" he asked.

"Yes," said Daniel. "There's only a couple archaeologists, myself included, because they didn't realize that finding new technology wouldn't be straightforward. But now they're seeing the light, or they at least understand when I tell them there's a need."

Jordan looked down for a second, hiding his face, then looked back up with a soft smile. "Daniel Jackson," he said, "you have no idea what this means to me. At my age, I did not expect such a surprise."

Daniel smiled, nodding.

"But," Jordan said, raising an eyebrow, "but, I am not sure I can accept your offer."

Daniel was confused.

"I cannot just leave behind everything to disappear under NORAD, dear boy, without causing much chaos," explained Jordan. "I still teach two classes here, and Stephen and Sarah and I have our own projects on the side."

"I didn't know they were still with you," said Daniel, his smile just slightly strained as his hopes began to fall a little.

"Did you know Stephen is about to publish a book?" asked Jordan, possibly missing Daniel's reaction. "It's good—I've read it."

"We haven't been in touch," said Daniel, sitting back up from where he'd been leaning. "So, the answer's 'no'?"

"The answer's 'maybe', Daniel," said Jordan, clasping his hands and letting them rest in his lap. "I was never going to go to other planets and do fieldwork; I can't even do that on my own planet anymore. But if you really do want my help, I can look over artifacts and send you my opinion on it. Would that be feasible?"

Daniel's face relaxed a little. "Yes, yes, that would be good of course. Actually, though, what would be even more useful is if you could be on the lookout for people who might be open to that kind of job; I really can't oversee every archaeological dig on every planet."

"Oh, of course," said Jordan, smiling. "And—is it possible that I could come once and see this Stargate of yours?"

"I'm sure we could make that work," said Daniel, his smile wide.

"Good, good," said Jordan, settling comfortably in his chair.

"I guess we'll be in touch then," said Daniel, reaching for the nondisclosure agreement.

"I hope so," said Jordan, handing it to him and standing up.

Daniel rose, closing his folder and standing up to put out his hand.

"Daniel," said Jordan after they shook hands one final time. "Have you spoken to Robert Rothman recently?"

"No," admitted Daniel. "I, um, kind of vanished into thin air, in a manner of speaking. Besides, I don't think anyone's interested in catching up with the crazy one."

"Actually, Robert came to reminisce a month or so back, and he mentioned you fondly," said Jordan. "Perhaps I should give you his number? I think he's been taking a break from work recently."

"Yeah, yes, that would be great," said Daniel. "Thanks for all your help."

"No problem, Daniel," said Jordan, putting his hands in the large pockets of his coat. "You won't believe it, but I never stopped thinking of you as one of my best students. I'm glad you've been able to thrive at last."

Daniel didn't know what to say so he ducked his head, nodding to Dr. Jordan before leaving the room. He held his head high on the way back through the campus, the hint of a smile still clinging to the corner of his mouth. Catherine had been right, as usual. And things were looking up for him—just a little. After all the failures recently, he felt like he deserved this.

—

**Author's Note: **Just a note on Cordesh's motivation. Sam assumed that he was either arrogant or crazy, but instead, he's suffering from the Goa'uld/Tok'ra idea of a good death. He can't bear the idea of being captured and removed from a host to die, so he provokes Jolinar to finish him off, a tactic which she barely recognizes in time (there's also a bit of malice in trying to get her to do the unthinkable for a Tok'ra, for which Sam will confront her very soon).


	23. Confrontation

**Chapter 22 - Confrontation**

Per Sam's request, Jolinar did not stay around to watch Cordesh's extraction ceremony. Truth be told, Sam still felt a little traumatized about the whole thing after Sha're's close call, and maybe a lingering fear of the Goa'uld as well. So they went to clean up and calm down.

Cordesh's shot had left a streak of black soot in Sam's hair, and while washing it out, she noticed that her roots were showing again. Jolinar had dyed them for her a while back, but here they were again, showing just how much time had past. Her hair was definitely not regulation length anymore, even if it had occasionally been pushing it before all this. Sam sighed, and let Jolinar finish up. Despite her practicality in most areas, she had made no request to trim Sam's hair, which had Sam wondering what Rosha had looked like. She still hadn't breached that subject if it didn't come up naturally, and wasn't sure that Jolinar was ready for it. Jolinar just combed back her hair and pinned it with a circular band like a crown.

All fresh and clean, they went to check on Sha're. Walking to her section, though, there was no one around. The blankets were pulled up neatly over the bed as well, but there were diapers on the bedside table. Slightly confused, Jolinar looked around for Larys or Dorin, finally catching sight of the latter coming into the infirmary.

"Ah, Jolinar," she said, gravely. "You may know that Cordesh was removed and executed this morning. Sho'nar survived without damage, but he is sorely hurt by the loss of Kurlsa and this betrayal by Cordesh. I have sent him to spend time with Cordesh's former host Lensin."

Jolinar sighed, getting distracted for the moment. "This stain on the Tok'ra will not fade quickly," she said.

"We have always known that nothing was infallible," said Dorin. She paused, brow furrowing. "But what are you doing here, Jolinar? Were you injured?"

"No, I came to see Sha're and her child," said Jolinar. "Have they been moved?"

"They moved themselves, rather," said Dorin, the lines in her face smoothing out. "Sha're has been doing well today, so she wished to visit Selmak and Saroosh."

"You let her go that far?" asked Jolinar, frowning. Sam, too, was worried at the effort involved.

Dorin sighed again. "Unfortunately, it was not far at all. Saroosh has grown much worse since you last saw her, and I requested that she stay here so that we could keep close watch on her condition."

Jolinar bit her lip, but nodded.

"They are this way," pointed Dorin, and then walked off to continue her business.

Sam felt stricken at such news. They had only spoken a handful of times during her stay, but she had grown very fond of the quirky humor and wisdom of the old symbiote and her host. The thought of them ill was a blow. _~I thought Tok'ra didn't get sick,~ _she said to Jolinar.

_*This is not sickness,* _said Jolinar, the strength gone for a moment from her voice. _*Even the Tok'ra cannot live forever, since we do not use a sarcophagus. Eventually old age takes its toll.*_

_~What will happen to Selmak if Saroosh dies?~ _asked Sam, worried.

_*Without another host...*_ trailed off Jolinar.

There was a moment of silence, and then Jolinar walked swiftly off to where Dorin had indicated. There were not really rooms in a Tok'ra infirmary, just tunneled hollows that were more like sections. The crystal technology made them relatively soundproof, thus taking away the need for doors, and by now Sam had to admit that the openness wasn't too bad once you got used to it. In fact, it took away some of the awkwardness.

Turning around a corner, they found what they were looking for. Selmak and Saroosh were tucked up in bed, nearly sitting, but looking as if they couldn't have done it without the pillows. Sha're, with Shifu sitting on her lap and leaning back against her, was in one of the few swoop-backed chairs on the Tok'ra base. She looked at peace, and judging by the smile on Saroosh's face, their conversation had been beneficial to both.

"I have found you at last," said Jolinar, taking a stool so that she could sit near them both.

"Yes, Jolinar, this young lady has been keeping most agreeable company with me," said Saroosh. "Don't be jealous, but you are simply not here enough, and without you only your mate will speak to me without that reverence that makes conversation just that much dull. Lantash, that is; Martouf, I have no hopes for. So Sha're is most welcome."

"I am glad to hear of it, for both your sakes," said Jolinar, taking her seat.

"Ah, now see dear one," said Saroosh, leaning over a little towards Sha're. "If you hadn't noticed, Jolinar is quite good at hiding her true feelings."

Sha're smiled in response, glancing to Jolinar.

"Perhaps, but not in this case," said Jolinar, just barely fidgeting. "I expressed my entire opinion." Inwardly, Sam grinned; she liked Saroosh.

"Well, now that you have seen us, do you have another mission already planned?" asked Saroosh, changing the subject.

"Not at the moment," said Jolinar. "In fact, my only mission at the moment is to see you."

Saroosh snorted, leaning back into the pillows. "Oh, don't tell me that you have come to commiserate! Not only is that not your way, I tell you that I will not have it."

"Commiserate is not the word I would have chosen," said Jolinar.

"Of course not," agreed Saroosh amiably. She paused and closed her eyes, and then Selmak spoke. "Jolinar, your face is not merely frustrated by our teasing. What is troubling to you?"

Jolinar looked to Sha're, whose face grew a little more serious, then looked back at Selmak. "You heard of Cordesh?"

"The most recent news, do you mean?" asked Selmak. "Yes, unfortunately."

"I should have pressed for more caution in dealing with him when I first reported it to the Council," said Jolinar quietly, darkly. "I knew how underhanded he had been, how well he had lied."

This was the first Sam had heard of such doubts, and she listened quietly and intently.

"Hmm," said Selmak, watching Jolinar. "This sounds familiar."

"Really?" said Jolinar with a weary sigh. "And what does that mean?"

"Merely that I remember similar statements the last time we were in danger and you thought you should have known better," said Selmak. "Never minding that the very fact that you did not think as the Goa'uld was more favorable in the eyes of the Tok'ra."

"I do not live to be pleasing to the eyes of the Tok'ra," answered Jolinar back, "but to keep the cause safe."

Selmak just gave her a look.

"I did not wish to bring up such subjects," murmured Jolinar under her breath.

Sha're, who had been sitting silently, a little brooding, spoke up. "What of what we were speaking of before?"

"Where were we?" asked Selmak. "I am afraid that our minds can be distracted easily."

"About Shifu," said Sha're, glancing down at her son with a smile. "You said that the Tok'ra do not have children."

Since Jolinar had nothing to say, she quietly handed control to Sam. "I was actually curious about that myself," Sam said, smiling and hoping the tone would lighten.

"Yes, I have often noticed how attached hosts are to the frequent bearing of children," said Selmak, musing. "It is a common expectation, even if not all partake. We symbiotes are not sure why. For us, there are a few parents that bring forth many children, and that is all. We do not think so much in terms of family because of that, unless in the sense that members of a nation thing of each other as family."

"So you only know about our idea of children through sharing with your host," said Sam.

"Not only, there is some instinct among us as well," corrected Selmak. "But as you've seen," she added, looking to Sha're, "the idea of human children is not sacred to most symbiotes."

"Before you came, Saroosh told me of how she and Selmak helped a planet once, and there were many children," said Sha're, looking to Sam with a smile. "Selmak did not remember children, and did not know what to do."

"That was slightly embellished, I will have you know," said Selmak with a slight sniff. "I remembered that they were small, innocent, and fond of being held. I merely forgot exactly what age went with each size."

Sha're and Selmak, and later Saroosh again, continued talking for some time. Sam listened for a while, but grew distracted by Jolinar. She wasn't loud—on the contrary—but her silence held more than a lack of opinion. Sam had noticed and felt how strongly she had been determined to recapture Cordesh, and her confession to Selmak had cleared much up, but that only served to remind Sam of exactly what had taken place. Jolinar's behavior and what she had revealed of her history had always been a little intriguing, more so than the other Tok'ra who were free with their pasts, and Sam had a feeling that Jolinar had always pushed the boundaries. Her relationship with her symbiote was growing a little strained because of Jolinar's continual tight lip, and Sam had a feeling that Jolinar was still trying to make up for Sam's situation. But she needed to realize that keeping secretive was only making it worse for Sam.

Once Sam was done mulling over these points, she felt a bit of emotion coming from Jolinar and realized that her eyes were still on Sha're and Selmak, even though her mind was far away. It was a dark emotion, but with softness, and it felt like a mix of regret and worry. Sam recalled that not so long ago she would have known for sure—what was it on Abydos that had changed that? She was ready for answers.

Rising from her seat, she waited until Sha're and Saroosh, now in control, looked to her. "Sorry to be such company," she said with a wan smile. "Jolinar and I have other things on our minds; it would probably be best to take them somewhere else."

_*We do?* _asked Jolinar, a little absentmindedly.

_~Yes,~ _said Sam.

Sha're was bouncing a barely fussing Shifu on her lap. She tipped her head to one side, worry in her eyes. Sam made her smile a little wider, trying to say without words that it wasn't related to her or the Abydonians.

"Make sure you keep on your toes, Samantha," commented Saroosh with a significant look. "I don't want to see Jolinar moping around, here or elsewhere."

"If that word isn't enough to keep her from it, I don't know what is," said Sam warmly. Putting her stool back to one side, she went out of the infirmary and down towards their personal room.

_*What is this?* _asked Jolinar, now fully aware of what Sam was doing.

_~Something I've been waiting to do, and can't wait any longer,~ _she answered.

Jolinar's emotions were less guarded, and Sam could feel the slight apprehension and unsurety. It wasn't the right moment yet, though, so she held her own cards close. Finally, coming into their room, she sat herself neatly on the bed and crossed her arms. She was not giving up control of her body for this conversation.

_*Yes?* _sighed Jolinar, apparently without any clue to Sam's behavior.

_~We've been together for over two months now, right?~ _said Sam, but she didn't wait for the obvious answer. _~I'll admit, it's a good deal longer than I thought or wanted, but it's not like either of us could help that. I'm trying to make the best of it, but you know the one obstacle in my way? You.~_

Jolinar was without words, perhaps a little stunned.

_~I thought we had a rapport going, off on missions, moving around the base, working together. And then Abydos happened.~ _Sam could feel Jolinar instantly tense just a little. _~I asked you then what the big deal was, and you didn't answer, and I thought it was because both of us were upset about the mistake we'd made. But that isn't the case, is it? No, because it's not just that the Goa'uld screwed things up, it's this particular Goa'uld. Quetesh. You said you knew her more personally, but you didn't say how or why. And then you've been behaving all weird and guilty about Cordesh, even though you didn't when you revealed him to the Council.~_

Sam paused, secretly hoping Jolinar would take it from here, but only growing more determined when the symbiote was stubbornly silent.

_~Well, I've had it up to here,~ _Sam said shortly, standing up from the bed and slowly pacing the small room. _~I've put up with enough crap from you, and I want answers.~_

_*Crap,* _repeated back Jolinar flatly. _*Is that what you think of personal discretion? For one who wishes to maintain a little personal privacy, that statement seems hypocritical.*_

_~You said you'd tell me when it was necessary,~ _countered Sam. _~So yes, I'm pushing it a little sooner, but I don't know what else to do.~_ Sighing, she continued, _~Jolinar, I just want a little trust. We're supposed to be working together, but recently I've wondered how true that is. I feel like I'm being blocked at every turn; you used to be squarely on my side, but now?~_

_*It's not a matter of trust,* _said Jolinar. _*It never was.*_

Sam felt the walls begin to crack, and so she held her mouth shut and waited, pacing.

_*Fine,* _Jolinar said at last. _*You're right, you deserve to know.*_

Sam's pacing slowed a little.

_*Selmak once told you of how the Tok'ra came to be,* _said Jolinar. _*How Egeria turned from the path that the other queens followed, and bore children whose minds had not the evil memories of the Goa'uld. And she also told you how some very few Goa'uld were later turned likewise. I was one of the latter.*_

Sam stopped, shocked. _~You...you're a Goa'uld?~_

_*Was,* _said Jolinar. _*For the first millennia of my life.*_

_~You're kidding me, right?~ _asked Sam, sitting back down on the bed as she tried to collect her thoughts. This was just the old tactic of preparing someone by giving them the worst possibility first, then following with the lesser evil of reality, surely.

_*On this subject, I am not flippant.*_

No, that wasn't Jolinar's way was it. Except...Jolinar's way? _~So all this time, all your fiercer ways haven't been trying to be more independent of the Tok'ra, they're just your mistakes as you try to become one of them?~_ Sam didn't know what she was thinking, and her tone came out accusing.

_*I will never be 'one of them',* _said Jolinar, fire in her voice. _*They are who they are, not just because of what they believe, but because of the past they carry with them. I will not strive for the impossible.*_

_~Why didn't you think I should know this?~ _was Sam's next question, as her thoughts began to order themselves. _~I knew nothing of the Tok'ra at first, I just thought you were a rogue Goa'uld, so why couldn't you just tell me the truth?~_

_*I am not a Goa'uld!* _said Jolinar harshly. _*Your terminology is limited because of your knowledge, but you should know that at least.*_

_~I do know that you all but deceived me,~ _said Sam emphatically. _~You kept trying to convince me that there was no danger, despite Cordesh, and that you were all true to the cause because you knew no other way. Not a lie, but not the whole truth either.~_

_*What should I have said?* _demanded Jolinar. _*Your prejudices were already against me, and my hope was that I should be fully blended with another within the month and that you would have gone happily on your way. My new host would know all, but there was no need to reawaken your fears.*_

Sam didn't have an immediate answer. Thoughts spinning in her head, she brought her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them and resting her head in between them.

_*Shall I now have to re-earn all your trust?* _asked Jolinar bitterly.

_~Just give me a minute,~ _said Sam. She closed her eyes, thinking hard. That first feeling of terror when she realized Jolinar was in her body came back, flooding her memory. The invasion, the power, the capability for complete control; she had forgotten how strong had been her fear. It wasn't so strong now. She knew Jolinar, she understood her...or did she? This information explained so much, but in more detail than Sam had wanted. How she occasionally forgot the host, how she did what she thought was best and followed no law, how Lantash and Selmak carefully reminded her of things, how she was so comfortable giving orders and in gaudy dress, how she was often wanting control...

_~How did it happen?~ _asked Sam quietly after a moment.

Jolinar had pulled back a little, and her answer was equally distant. _*I served Cronus, many centuries ago,* _she began. _*I was useful to him because I was independent, and did not follow his orders blindly. I also chose my hosts carefully, stolen from the elite slaves of other System Lords so that I might sift through their minds for information to help Cronus.*_

It hurt Sam to hear this, but she didn't shrink back. Jolinar pressed forward, slowly, with painful pauses, but steadily enough.

_*Eventually I grew curious, and in my spare time I looked through other memories. Elista, my last host from that time, was stronger than the others. I didn't fully suppress her because I wanted her information, but I counted too much on my own strength. She made me doubt, but I didn't notice at first. I asked her questions, and was surprised when she answered, always submissive but always with an answer. Then I heard of the Tok'ra. I had known before, but their existence had not made sense. Now, hearing of them again, it made all the more sense as I could hear Elista's thoughts. I do not know how long it took, but some day I realized that I could no longer convince either her or myself that I was the superior being.*_

Sam's tightly wound ball of worries and fears slowly began to unwind as Jolinar let her story forth freely. She waited as Jolinar took a minute, and let her arms rest on her knees.

_*It wasn't all in an instant. I came to some kind of understanding with Elista, but that didn't change anything else for a while. I left Chronus and served other lords, ones who seemed like they were more shrewd in their search for power, less brutal. But soon I could not keep the blinders over my eyes, and the arrogance and cruelty became clear in every action. And so I found my way here, just two and a half centuries ago, after much complication and danger.*_

Sam nodded, digesting the last piece of information.

_*I will understand if you wish to hasten your search for a replacement host,* _said Jolinar when Sam had no comment, her tone painfully dark.

_~Wait,~ _said Sam, opening her eyes again. _~So, pretty much all on your own, you realized that your whole life was a mistake?~_

_*I will not deny, without Elista I would not have made the same progress,* _said Jolinar.

_~But you didn't need as much convincing as you might have,~ _said Sam, following her own logic, even as it led her out of her comfort zone. _~And you certainly weren't forced.~_

_*That is correct,* _said Jolinar.

_~I guess I shouldn't have called you just a rogue Goa'uld,~ _said Sam, taking a deep breath and reaching out with her mind across the breach that she and Jolinar had just created. _~You were more like Egeria than anything else, and I should have trusted that.~_

_*I wasn't perfect,* _said Jolinar, hesitating before accepting Sam's metaphorically outstretched hand. _*You were correct in that many of my mistakes are failures to amend old ways.*_

_~But you admit it,~ _said Sam. _~You have been honest, just wary.~ _She tried to convey her understanding through thought, and was satisfied when Jolinar came back from where she had withdrawn. No closer, but no farther away._ ~Quetesh?~ _she asked, continuing.

_*An ally of mine, along with Athena and Amonet, for a time. It has been many centuries since that fell apart, but not so many since Quetesh and I were last at odds. It has been a regret of mine that I did not use my knowledge to finish her off while she still trusted me, or at least trusted me enough.*_

Sam nodded, settling back against the headboard, resting her head upon it.

_*Are you keeping your thoughts from me?* _asked Jolinar, her tone suspicious.

_~About the fact that you were a Goa'uld?~ _asked Sam. _~I don't even know what my own thoughts are, let alone what I want to do about them. The only thing I know is: you've never purposely failed me, and I think I can trust you to continue that pattern.~_

_*Since that is all I can promise, I am satisfied,* _said Jolinar.

_~It is tough,~ _admitted Sam.

_*As it has been for me for longer than your lifespan,* _said Jolinar. _*I did not tell you before, not only to spare your fears but to spare myself having to retell my darkest memories.*_

Sam hmmed, acknowledging. _~So, how are we going to infiltrate Quetesh?~_

If Jolinar's quick response meant anything, Sam had a feeling she was glad to move on. _*To that, I have given much thought. It will be difficult, as her territory is small and her Goa'uld lieutenants few, but there is one thing in our favor: Quetesh has taken herself as the god of sexual pleasures and their perversion.*_

Sam waited, curious and concerned, leaving behind her conflicted thoughts.

_*She places her female Jaffa in high positions. And such shall be our entry.*_

Sam's eyebrows rose involuntarily, but at the same time her jaw set a little more into place. This wasn't just some flippant disguise mission, and it wasn't just an interesting scenario; at some point she had realized that these Tok'ra missions weren't just a novelty, they were the duty she had taken upon herself.

—

**Author's notes: **I did not make all this up. It was never mentioned in the show, but officially licensed Stargate products have the backstories of many of the minor characters of the show, including the fact that the reason Jolinar and Garshaw have a "of Malkshur" and "of Beloute" as surnames is because they were Goa'uld who proved themselves Tok'ra at battles of those names. Apart from that fact, the rest of the backstory is mine, however.


	24. Ordinary

**Chapter 23 - Ordinary**

"What, no breakfast?" asked Daniel, taking the last entirely empty bench just across the table from Mckay. The neurotic scientist was surrounded by papers, calculators, and his favorite tablet computer, but despite his usual attention to food he had none now.

"I'm not really in the mood for talking," Mckay answered absently, snapping his fingers as he waited for his test to finish collating.

"What could possibly have you too busy to eat?" asked Daniel through a mouthful of his own oatmeal, ignoring Mckay's protestation as usual.

"Your idea, actually," responded Mckay, equally ignoring his own earlier comment. "Your grand idea to expand the non-military part of this base? Admirable in intent, maybe, but you handed it over to the one person who wouldn't know how to handle it."

"General Hammond?" asked Daniel, then took a sip of his coffee.

"No," said Mckay in an obvious tone, abandoning his work for a second to give Daniel a look. "I didn't mean person literally; I meant the military. They're all about delegation and formal applications and deadlines."

Daniel shrugged, nothing to retort about what he'd heard.

"What's this, team breakfast?" asked Dixon, walking by with his food.

"Do you want it to be?" asked Daniel, looking up.

"No," said Mckay, even though he hadn't been asked.

"Well, in that case," murmured Dixon with a slight dance of his eyebrows, and then took a seat next to Daniel.

"What is that calculating, exactly?" asked Daniel, nodding to Mckay's computer.

"I'm trying to find something in common with the scientists here that I least think worthy of the position and how they came to be here in the first place, looking for variables that I can eliminate from my own search."

Dixon half-choked on his bite of bacon. Daniel glanced over to him, and they shared a knowing look—what it was they both know, though, neither of them could have fully said.

"And I was thinking I was taking too long," said Daniel under his breath.

ooooooo

Jolinar hadn't expanded on her plan of operation, but Sam could tell it wasn't due to stubborn silence, just efficiency to wait until it became immediately relevant. The next morning was taken up by Martouf and Lantash, who had just returned from their own mission.

"I was surprised to hear you had left the base," Jolinar had said, after the usual embrace and cheek-kiss.

"I'm sure you were," said Lantash. "But one of our operatives had been taken into custody by angry and confused people, and the Council needed a decidedly friendly, calm face and voice. And that would be Martouf."

"Yes, just as I am called to bring down escaped fugitives," murmured Jolinar, her eyes dropping for a second.

Lantash had put a hand under her chin to lift it so that he could look her in the eyes, searching for the meaning behind her answer. It had not taken long to find. As the story wore to an end, Jolinar had eventually revealed what she had told Samantha. Lantash had been surprised but pleased to hear it.

"I did not think you would be so open without a push," he commented.

Martouf came forward with his approval as well, and he wished to hear what Sam thought of it all. After coming forward, though, Sam found that she didn't have much to say at all. Despite all her confusion, in the end she had found herself agreeing with Jolinar; after this amount of time, the information was less relevant than it might seem.

"Does it sound terrible if I say it wasn't a complete shock?" she asked.

Martouf hid a small smile and shook his head. "I should hope not, for that would have meant that Jolinar had been behaving dishonestly, which I would not expect."

"To be honest, and I told her this," continued Sam, "it's just going to take a little time. It's not like I need any particular proof, just that it's hard to go back to the way things were just like that."

Martouf nodded. "Of course. In a way, Jolinar might have made the best choice by holding off this information until you were familiar enough with her to understand it."

Sam paused. "In a way, maybe," she said, not as reluctantly as before. What she didn't say was that the planning for their important task helped her simply forget, or forget her fears at least.

There had been other conversation on lighter things, giving Jolinar no time to explain the details of her idea until they all parted for their own business. Sam wondered for a moment how Martouf and Lantash would respond if they knew what she and Jolinar were planning to do, especially so soon after all that had occurred.

_*Well, now we may talk,* _said Jolinar finally, after a couple brief errands on the base. Sam felt guilty appreciating how she acted as if yesterday's conversation had never happened. _*If you remember, we agreed to make contact with the operative on a Goa'uld farming world. As that is a mission of undefined length, it will serve dual purposes.*_

_~So we do the official one first, then the other, I know,~ _said Sam.

_*There is one major issue in the general idea of the plan,* _admitted Jolinar. _*I do not believe that we will be able to take enough time without rousing suspicion to accomplish our rescue of the Abydonians. And, my plan revolves around more lengthy infiltration.*_

_~So you're saying we'll have to be very careful with how we schedule things,~ _said Sam. _~Okay, I can see that. But what exactly is your plan?~_

_*Quetesh does not have females as slaves, for her preferences lie in other ways when it comes to the service she receives from them,* _said Jolinar. _*But she does not subject them to lowly servitude as do most System Lords. Instead, she gives the most intelligent of them positions of power over her other slaves, in hopes that their resourcefulness will shine and that they will be less inclined to grow drunk with power and competition.*_

_~If she's that smart, why isn't she more powerful?~ _asked Sam.

_*She has always played her cards quietly, waiting for a power vacuum to take control without losing Jaffa,* _said Jolinar. _*But that will prove useful for us. I intend for us to mingle among the ranks of her Jaffa, eventually finding ourselves a small position where we may learn and watch. Should it prove necessary, we would then be able to influence events towards a feasible rescue.*_

_~Makes sense,~ _said Sam. _~How?~_

_*We symbiotes cannot tell the difference between the young and old of our kind,* _said Jolinar. _*Thus, with a contrived symbol and pouch, none could tell the difference if they were not looking.*_

_~You can fake a pouch?~ _asked Sam, impressed.

_*For the purposes of a short disguise, certainly,* _said Jolinar.

_~I can see how that might get tricky if we're having to come back here in between missions,~ _said Sam. _~At least it's not a permanent tattoo, right?~_

_*Correct,* _said Jolinar. _*I am glad this meets with your approval.*_

_~Quetesh won't recognize you because of me, right?~ _asked Sam.

_*Again, correct,* _said Jolinar. _*The only way our former acquaintance will affect the mission is in giving me a good sense and base of knowledge for what she will do.*_

_~Last question,~ _said Sam, ignoring Jolinar's perhaps purposeful over-statement of the odds. _~Can we kill her?~_

Jolinar did not answer for a second, and Sam wondered if she was surprised at the question. At the moment, though, Sam was only thinking of recompense for all that this Goa'uld had screwed up.

_*No,*_ Jolinar answered finally, disappointedly. _*We cannot act and affect such a large change in the balance of the System Lords, not yet.*_

Sam acknowledged the validity of that, and they moved on to the nitty gritty details. All those times Jolinar had been silent and private with her thoughts, Sam realized, she had been planning this. She knew exactly what she needed and where she needed to get it from and approximately how long it would take. All she needed was to bounce that information off of Sam, and then wait for the opportune moment. And that moment was coming very soon.

ooooooo

Daniel retired to his office soon after breakfast. They were headed out on another mission tomorrow, and he was looking over the MALP information. The planet had appeared uninhabited, but the archaeological remains were immense compared to what they usually found. He couldn't get any details yet, but he wanted to go in with any background he could look up.

As he zoomed in on the one tower structure that was most clear, there was a light ping from his computer. He had mail. Just out of habit, he clicked over to his email program, then blinked. It was from Dr. Jordan. He had not expected anything so soon—even Catherine had not responded yet—so he quickly opened it. There were a couple names he recognized, a couple he didn't, and one near the bottom that had no information attached at all. Curious and thoroughly distracted, he had to call for clarification.

"Um yes, I need to speak to Dr. David Jordan in the Archaeology Department?" said Daniel, holding the phone with his shoulder and going back to the other program to finish the enhancement of the MALP image.

"_This is Stephen Rayner, Dr. Jordan's office, what do you need?"_ came a familiar voice after a couple seconds.

"Stephen," said Daniel, dropping his shoulder to hold the phone with his hand. "I wasn't expecting to hear you—this is Daniel Jackson. I need to reach Dr. Jordan."

"_Daniel?" _responded Stephen, shocked. _"You're kidding, right?"_

"I take it he didn't mention my visit," said Daniel. There was no reason for Dr. Jordan to bring it up, as its classified nature would make explanations difficult.

"_Of course not—what were you thinking, coming back like this after three years?"_

Daniel sighed. He had not wanted to have this conversation. "Stephen, my business is with Dr. Jordan, not you."

"_What business? Last I heard, you were lecturing an empty room."_

"Well, it wasn't empty when I started, and that was three years ago," said Daniel. "Stephen, I know there was some bad blood between us, but this is a professional matter."

"_Really."_

"Really."

"_Dr. Jordan's not in right now."_

"Have him call me back then?" said Daniel.

"_If you're trying to ensnare him in one of your conspiracy theories, I'll have none of it," _Stephen warned.

"Thank you, Stephen," Daniel sighed, and hung up the phone with a dull thunk. He and Stephen had never been the closest of friends, but apparently any animosity had grown not lessened over the past years. The selfish part of him hoped that any further interactions with Dr. Jordan were Stephen-free, but the logical part of him knew he'd have to deal with the issue sooner or later. Personally, though, he hoped later.

ooooooo

After Jolinar had neatly and covertly obtained all the small things they would need for the mission, she and Sam had caught up with Sha're where she was still confined to her bed. Confined to the infirmary at least, and she took what liberties she could by spending time with Saroosh and Selmak. As Sam and Jolinar walked in on them, Sam quickly surmised that the elder symbiote and host had decided that Sha're was one of the rare few that they could be comfortable with.

"Checkers?" asked Sam, surprised and coming over to marvel.

"So there is a name," said Saroosh, looking up.

"Dan'yel and Skaara were very fond of this game," said Sha're, as Sam drew near to examine the pieces. "They played for many hours, too many sometimes."

"Just be glad he didn't try to teach him chess," said Sam, smiling as she picked up one of the small pieces. The game didn't require much artisanship, but she liked the Tok'ra equivalent that Sha're had somehow gotten made.

"Why?" asked Sha're.

"Oh, it's just a lot more complicated and time consuming," said Sam, putting the little black stone back on the crystalline board. "There are whole books written about the strategies of it." Sam sat down next to Sha're to watch.

"Then you must teach it when you next return," said Saroosh. "It has been some time since I have been asked to exercise my intellect in such a way."

"No, Sam you must not," protested Sha're, but lightly. "It shall not be fair, with my mind so many centuries younger than yours! And you shall not be able to convince me that Selmak is not helping."

Saroosh half snorted. "It is a pittance. Your mind is young and agile, ours so over-full that we will not be able to think clearly."

"So they say," said Sha're, looking to Sam incredulously.

Sam smiled, saying quietly, "I agree."

"Your alliance should frighten me," commented Saroosh. "But never mind, I shall get the game from you soon enough."

Though her tone was light, Sam and Sha're's thoughts did not seem to be so. Sam just hoped she would get the chance eventually, but Sha're looked a little worried.

"Whose turn was it?" asked Saroosh.

"Yours," said Sha're.

"See, young nimble mind," muttered Saroosh.

Sha're managed a smile again.

"Where is Shifu?" asked Sam, confused as she looked around and saw no sign of the child.

"Martouf took him," said Sha're, not looking up.

"Really?" said Sam.

"He was here when I came to visit, and offered to watch him while I taught Saroosh and Selmak the game," said Sha're. She frowned, thinking. "That was some time ago. I did not want to impose for so long." She sighed.

"Hmm, then it is as usual," said Saroosh, making her move. "That man does nothing but find new ways to oblige those he names as friends."

"I can go find him if you want," offered Sam.

"I would like that, if you do not mind," said Sha're, touching Sam's hand as she looked up at her. "It has been nearly an hour, and he will probably need to feed again soon. Shifu, that is."

_~Where do you think they went?~ _asked Sam as she stood up.

_*Probably no further than the nearby corridors,* _said Jolinar. _*They are vacant at this time in the evening.*_

Walking out of the infirmary, Sam glanced down a few hallways before she caught sight of Martouf. He was pacing evenly back and forth, Shifu apparently dozing in his arms. Sam had half expected to see him rocking the baby, but maybe that was more of a human thing to do.

"Sha're's wondering where you are," said Sam as she walked up to him. "She's a bit miffed it took her this long to notice."

Martouf smiled. "I am not displeased then."

Shifu had turned his head floppily towards Sam at the sound of her voice, and she smiled at his wide-eyed look. "I didn't realize you knew how to deal with children," she said, putting up her finger for Shifu to grip with his tiny hand.

"I did not, before today," admitted Martouf. "But they are very fascinating."

"Fascinating?" said Sam, looking up from Shifu to Martouf.

"I do not remember them at all," said Martouf, a little sheepishly at Sam's look.

"Yes, I remember Selmak talking about how there are no children among the Tok'ra," said Sam. "I'd use the word cute, personally," she added, in a sudden moment of honesty.

"I'll try to remember that," said Martouf with a slight smile. "Do you wish to hold him?" he asked, as Shifu smiled at Sam and as she couldn't help but smile back.

Sam hesitated for a moment, but took him up on the offer. Shifu was smaller than he looked, and being only a week old had little strength in his muscles. As she took him into a cradle hold, he seemed to meld against her, all warm and soft. He didn't move or make noise, just looked up at her face, pondering in his infant way. His blanket being mussed, Sam took a second to support him with one arm while wrapping him a little more neatly with the other.

After that moment of silence Lantash spoke. "Martouf thinks it an awkward question, and perhaps to his mother it would be, but I hope you will understand—this is strange to us. How do you know how to react to him, what he will respond to?"

_*I must agree, this is beyond my understanding,* _commented Jolinar in an undertone.

"What do you mean exactly?" asked Sam, bemused and confused all at once.

"The way you are swaying," said Lantash, nodding towards her. "And the smile, and the way you let him hold your finger, the way you wrap him, how you hold him so that he can see your face."

Sam's brow furrowed for a second. She hadn't noticed she was even doing all that. Looking down at Shifu, she thought for a moment, then looked back up. "I'm not sure," she said. "I'm not an anthropologist or psychologist, but some of it seems to be instinctual. The rest—well, on Earth everyone has seen a baby or someone caring for one."

"How did you learn?" asked Lantash. "Are there children born even in your military?"

"No, but I wasn't always in the military," said Sam, brow furrowing again. "I had friends whose mothers had more children, and even recently my brother and his wife had two kids that I got to hold."

Lantash nodded, taking in the information. Sam had to smile to herself; this was by far the oddest conversation, and yet strangely endearing.

_*Samantha,* _said Jolinar quietly. _*I must admit, experiencing how you feel for this child who is not your own is an experience like none I have had before.*_

_~Sorry,~ _said Sam. _~Didn't mean to disrupt you.~_

_*Do not apologize,* _said Jolinar. _*It is...amazing, in its way.*_

Sam looked back up to where Martouf and Lantash were. "I guess you're not the only ones," she said.

"Jolinar?" said Martouf, now back in control.

"Yes," said Sam. "She is finding this a learning experience."

Martouf had a quick smile of appreciation. "For all our stiff words, we also are intrigued," he said. "It seems—most beautiful. Even we felt a slight sense of peace we could not explain while holding the child."

"That sounds about right," said Sam, thinking about all that this conversation had opened up. Then she looked back down at Shifu. "I suppose you're getting tired of all this talk, aren't you?" she said to him. "Come on, let's get you to your mother."

After returning Shifu to Sha're, who thanked Martouf and Lantash and in the same breath chastised them for burdening themselves with her baby for so long, Sam and Jolinar had to disengage their minds from the quiet and the domestic.

Pushing back the questions and answers about how human the Tok'ra really were, Sam joined Jolinar in focusing on their next task.

_*Tomorrow is the start of a long mission, and though it will be longer than they realize, Martouf and Lantash will wish to continue our tradition,* _Jolinar said. _*That is still acceptable?*_

_~Of course,~ _said Sam. _~I've had the luxury of a bed for a while now, so one extra night without one won't hurt.~_

That being settled, Jolinar retired to their chamber and spent the rest of the evening putting all their supplies together. Apart from the usual, of course, she put in a bottle of black dye for the tattoo and a small container with supplies to mimic the shape of a Jaffa symbiote pouch. Sam had a remained a little sceptic when she saw that it only consisted of a malleable rubber-like substance, various paints and a kind of jelly, but she decided to wait until they put it to use. The rest of accoutrements for a Jaffa, such as the armor and staff weapon, would have to be found off world.

And then, not forgetting that they had more than one goal, they went over the first mission. The official one.

_*It's relatively simple,* _Jolinar said. _*Our operative is deep within Goa'uld territory, but doing research instead of spying, acquiring what he needs from the Goa'uld.*_

_~I got that from the briefing,~ _said Sam. _~But how can it be simple if we have to get that deep? Won't they sense you?~_

_*Not if we stay out of the way,* _said Jolinar. _*Not only is the sense muted if you are not paying attention to it, but it is affected by distance. I do not intend on putting you in danger by getting that close.*_

_~Oh sure, my life is the only thing worth protecting,~ _snarked Sam. _~You're lucky I don't tell Martouf and Lantash about all these comments of yours.~_

_*I am not reckless with my life,* _protested Jolinar. _*Not unless it's necessary. I have much to die for, but much to live for as well.*_

_~I'll say,~ _answered Sam. She sighed. _~Just how confident are you on this mission?~_

Jolinar grew even less frivolous, if that was possible. _*I remember Quetesh. I believe I know how she thinks. And I will not let any possibility of success go by because of risk or sacrifice involved, if you are in agreement.*_

Sam agreed silently, then added, _~On we go, then.~_

That night, Jolinar resting gently in Martouf and Lantash's arms as they sat together on the sand, Sam understood why Jolinar cherished these moments. It wasn't just because of the love she had for them, although Sam was no longer surprised at the strength of her symbiote's emotions when they rose to the surface, but because this symbolized a break from the calm reality of the Tok'ra base to the edgier and dangerous world beyond. Jolinar was uncomfortable here, not knowing how to live domestically but feeling that she should and wishing she could. Sam had the strong impression that every night spent like this, a small part of Jolinar wanted it to be the last night where it felt like stepping through the gate to another universe just to go on a mission. And in many ways, Sam understood.


	25. Discovery

**Chapter 24 - Discovery**

Sam and Jolinar stepped through the gate to another Goa'uld world. There was no guard kept on this gate, no need to be cautious at first. If anything, this world had all but forgotten that its gate brought more than what was demanded. This Goa'uld had become arrogant, blind, and the Tok'ra were not hasty to take full advantage of him yet. Instead, they kept one of their own to quietly steal and acquire, waiting for the right moment to end it, if it ever would come.

For this mission, Jolinar had pulled out a close fitting outfit of light material, dark and mottled with varying woodland colors, not quite military camouflage but something a little more natural and less angled in design. It was softly woven and clung without sticking—Sam liked it and wondered where Jolinar had been hiding it. But its purpose was not comfort or even fashion, but simply something to get them from here to where they would steal a Jaffa's uniform. That was the true goal.

Sneaking through the forest, walking with long strides over the quietest brush, ears open for any sound, the first part would be easy. They were several miles from civilization and didn't expect any Jaffa. Even if they were surprised, Jolinar counted on using her weapon faster, and that would save them the trouble of doing it later. Sam frowned at that, but it wasn't enough to give a vocal protest.

While Jolinar kept all her senses sharp and her focus on moving to the destination, Sam couldn't keep her mind from wandering. Like so many others, the Stargate on this planet was put in a green and wooded area. Not tropical green, not arctic green, not wetland green, but that idiosyncratic temperate green. Sam had always wondered about how the galaxy was populated, if Stargates had been planted on worlds most like Earth, or if some advanced civilization had terraformed them to be so. It was such a near impossibility that all the worlds they came across had Earth-normal gravity and similar ecosystems, and the impossibility was even greater by the high percentage of temperate planets. Even the greenest of the planets they'd discovered had some of the natural variations of desert and plains, but they'd discovered only a few that were anything else—be they water, desert, mountainous, or plain-covered in the majority.

It was like some race had decided the perfect climate, and then gone and reproduced it a hundred times over, making a couple mistakes here and there but in general succeeding. It made Sam shiver, both at the wonder and fear that such an idea stirred, and at the huge scientific implications it represented either way it was taken. And it was something she had never talked to anyone about, just kept as a quiet speculation whenever they visited a new planet.

Right now, she was thinking about a smaller aspect of the issue: the vegetation. As Jolinar marched forward, each step would crush the dead underbrush or the young new plant-life, sending up a cloud of scent. Often it was barely noticeable, but Sam had nothing else to focus on. Unconsciously at first, she had begun to categorize those smells ever since her first trip through the gate. She'd found that many were the same as on Earth, but some seemed entirely foreign, and common on some worlds while conspicuously absent elsewhere. She was no biologist, but her own senses gathered pretty clear evidence.

But her revelry in her own distracted thoughts was soon interrupted. Jolinar began to move slower, crouching lower and stepping with more care, cat-like in how easy it seemed. They could be near civilization now, any moment they might catch sight of someone or vice-versa.

Sticking under the canopy of trees and listening for any noise but their own, Jolinar snuck through the woods and Sam kept second watch from inside her own head.

ooooooo

"You have to be kidding, right?" asked Dixon, five seconds before they were about to walk through the gate.

"Do I kid? No," said Mckay. Jack and Teal'c walked through first. "Seriously, all I had to do—"

Daniel walked through, Dixon at his side, and for a few brief seconds he felt himself passing through a world that wasn't quite physical. His eyes saw again, he breathed out, and he was walking on the steps of a new world.

"—just get Lee to realize the importance, and then he went and looked up all the controversial scientists for me," finished Mckay, coming through right behind him.

"Nice," said Dixon, looking around.

It wasn't new to Daniel, as he'd scanned the MALP readings only yesterday in great detail, but the scale was certainly impressive. Tall thin columns lined a neatly paved path from the gate towards a stone city. It wasn't Celtic, Roman, Greek, or even anything older—Daniel couldn't put a name on it at all, in fact, and that was what was intriguing.

"The only problems were ones I expected," Mckay said, shrugging, unappreciative of broken stone buildings. "Felger was annoyingly over-helpful and Tobias equally on the opposite side."

Dixon, after his moment of being impressed, turned back to Mckay. "Wait a minute, you're not doing any of the work at all?"

"I told you, I couldn't think of anybody," said Mckay.

"That seems most unfair to your coworkers," said Teal'c from where he stood a few steps ahead, turning his head to let one lifted eyebrow be fully in Mckay's view.

"Less chit-chat, please," sighed Jack. Daniel looked up to see him glancing resignedly at a boot covered in a thick yellow substance.

"I don't think I want to get close to that," said Dixon, mouth twisting. "Looks like something out of one of my kids diapers, and frankly I'm not sure I want to know anything else about it."

Mckay stepped forward despite a look of disgust on his face. Jack, nose wrinkled up, shook his foot, and Mckay jumped back a couple paces.

"Hey!" he called. "Come on!"

"Jack, no throwing of the droppings please," said Daniel, staying well back.

"What is it?" asked Jack, keeping the contaminated boot stuck out a foot or so.

Mckay took a step forward, squatted a little, then backed up and said quickly, "Bird problem, most likely."

"Would not such droppings be the responsibility of very large creatures?" asked Teal'c, who stood looking over Jack's shoulder with his hands behind his back.

"Okay, so elephant problem, whatever," said Mckay. "It's not a booby trap or alive, so why do we care?"

"This planet looks pretty abandoned," commented Daniel, who decided it was time to end the dropping talk. "No people of any kind, no signs of recent living either."

"So...ghost town," said Jack, giving up on his boot and standing up straight again.

"Of some kind of advanced technology, yes," said Mckay, pointing at the glass-paneled building at the end of the path. "Nothing beyond our own, that we can see."

"Still, that's impressive," said Daniel, reaching into his pack for his video camera. "We can probably assume that there haven't been Goa'uld here for a while, even though the address was on the cartouche."

"We talking Tollan type civilization here then?" asked Jack.

Mckay glanced down at the palm-sized device in his hand. "No radiation or poisonous gasses, thankfully."

"The Tollan did exist for many years within the knowledge of the Goa'uld," said Teal'c. "It is likely that their advanced technology was enough to repel them."

"So if this place is advanced, it's probably because they had nice weapons," said Dixon. "Sounds good to me."

"What's that?" asked Jack, cocking his head.

"What's what?" asked Mckay, a second before the buzzing sounded.

"Maybe the animal that left these droppings," suggested Teal'c.

Dixon and Mckay both glanced down at the size of the droppings, and Mckay's face paled a little while Dixon's tensed.

"Holy—whoa!" shouted Jack, and jumped back a step.

Daniel, camera in one hand, flipped it up as something flew towards them.

"Yikes!" said Jack, shaking himself off as the thing flew past him.

"Yeagh, that thing's huge!" said Dixon, smacking at whatever-it-was with his P-90.

Daniel frowned as the thing slowed down to hover in the middle of them. "Is it a bug or a bird?"

"More like a dinosaur," said Dixon, keeping well away from it.

The bird/bug thing hovered for a couple seconds, darting back and forth a few inches in mid-air, then flew straight for Mckay's face.

The scientist let out a cry that might have been a shriek, justifiable in Daniel's mind, and dropped the device. He ducked, and the thing flew straight over his head just to land on his back as he stood up. "Gah, get it off, get it off!" he called, spinning and frantically trying to smack it off.

Dixon stepped forward a little, reaching out with his gun to smack at the thing. It didn't seem to move.

"I'm allergic to most insect stings!" said Mckay, starting to hyperventilate.

Daniel glanced to Jack, a bit of concern on his face.

Jack rolled his eyes and sighed. "Hold still, Mckay," he said, pulling up his gun.

Mckay's eyes went wide and round, but he held perfectly still.

Barely pausing, Jack let fly a shot, and the thing flew from Mckay's back to land mostly in one piece, dripping greenish black slime.

Mckay breathed out slowly, rubbing one hand on his forehead.

"Happy now, are we?" asked Jack, his tone just starting to get exasperated.

Now that the thing was dead, Daniel and Mckay stepped to look closer at it.

"Good grief, it's like a scorpion and a dragonfly all at once," said Daniel, reaching out with a finger to try and uncurl the carcass.

"Scorpion?" asked Dixon surprised. Daniel looked up and thought he saw a little sympathy for Mckay in the man's eyes. "You saying that thing's tail is a stinger?"

Glancing back down at the six inch "tail", Daniel felt a little retroactive fear himself.

"Okay, that thing's just nasty," said Jack, looking over the scientists as they squatted by it.

"It would appear that its intentions could have been violent," said Teal'c.

"Well, we'll have to take it back for study," said Daniel. "But look at what's dripping from the stinger—it was primed to inject something."

"Or someone," said Mckay pointedly.

"So shooting, good," said Dixon with a nod. "Mckay actually made a good call for once."

Jack indulged in a silent chuckle.

Mckay stood up and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, like you would have just let it land on you," he muttered.

Daniel took a specimen bag out of his backpack and carefully scooped the messy carcass into it, noting the acidic smell with some distaste.

"ColonelO'Neill, I believe it would be wise to retreat from this planet," spoke up Teal'c.

"What, the poo and the bugs too much for your Jaffa warrior skills?" asked Jack.

"Wait, what about the technology?" asked Mckay.

"I do believe a retreat is in order," answered Teal'c, a little more forcefully.

Daniel looked up and followed Teal'c's look, as did the others.

"Shit!" hissed Jack between teeth as a buzz was heard to accompany the approaching cloud.

"Teal'c's right," said Dixon hastily.

"Mckay, dial the gate!" ordered Jack, half-jogging backwards with his gun up and ready to fire.

Daniel stood up, stuffing the bag in his backpack, and followed his quickly retreating team.

Mckay couldn't dial the gate any faster, but the cloud of bugs grew closer.

"Come on, come on," muttered Dixon, hands clenched around the gun.

The gate activated in the traditional rush.

"This is SG-1, we are coming in hot!" yelled Jack into his radio, as Daniel dialed their GDO code.

The bugs were almost on them. Teal'c and Dixon opened fire, and Jack held up his gun with one hand as he waited for the signal. "Now!" he said.

Mckay leapt through the gate with no pushing, and Daniel and Dixon turned to follow. They were barely in the gateroom before Teal'c and Jack came through. Mckay was calling up to the control room, "Close the iris! Close the iris!"

A couple bugs came through, but they flew high and Jack and Dixon's rapid fire had them splatted on the floor in a few seconds.

"What was that, SG-1?" demanded Hammond from the control room.

"Sorry, sir!" called Jack crisply. "Big honking space bugs!"

"All taken care of, sir," said Dixon, letting his gun lower slowly.

"I'll get a science team to handle the remains," said Hammond, nodding from where he stood.

The team eyed each other, breathing out their sighs of relief. That was certainly not making it onto the list of favorite planets.

ooooooo

This was Jolinar's favorite part of any mission, Sam decided. They had passed two pseudo-settlements by now, and were well into the most populated area on the planet. The trees broke every so often into clearings full of wooden dwellings. Some were the small cottages and barracks of ordinary Jaffa, others more elaborate for their masters, with two stories and balconies. No sign of where the clearly visible slaves would have be quartered, but that wasn't Sam or Jolinar's mission this time.

Flitting behind the trees no matter how thin the cover, staying behind buildings and away from guard posts as much as possible, Jolinar looked for signs of Tok'ra presence. There wouldn't be explicit signs, but that was the point. The Tok'ra expected it to take a few days to a few weeks for Jolinar to locate the operative's hide-out, but they assumed she'd need to use slower methods. Jolinar, on the other hand, planned to guess her way to success. Sharp eyes looking for the weaknesses in the village planning and the landscape, she watched for a perfect place for a small Tok'ra tunnel.

The sun was well past its apex, drifting halfway down the horizon as the day wore on. They were many miles from the gate now, with dozens of Jaffa between them and it, all well-armed and ready for battle. Sam paid close attention as she felt the faint tingle of naquadah from each one they drew near to, and had to remind herself that the Jaffa had only limited perception of symbiotes.

As the minutes passed, Sam began to quietly doubt Jolinar's plan of action. Leaping in with both feet was fine on some occasions, but in this case the Tok'ra's usual tactic of inconspicuous and steady searching might prove most effective. They had only stopped to eat once today, and the heat of midday had pierced even the trees and light clothing that had shielded Sam and Jolinar. As the water was well-patrolled, they had only the lukewarm bottle that they had brought.

Just as Sam was about to say something, though she didn't know what, Jolinar paused behind an especially large old tree-stump. Pulling her small data-pad from her pocket, she glanced at the information they had. The operative here was entirely science-focused, and had sent back very limited information about the structure of this planet. All Jolinar knew was the general population and that the settlement seemed to be stretched in a line along the space between the two ridges to either side of the Stargate, with a river running through the middle. It was many miles wide, but it certainly narrowed the field.

_*As far as we know, he's moved his location every few months for his own and for the Tok'ra's protection,* _said Jolinar finally. _*But the pattern has been a low hill near a branch of the settlement that reaches out, no more than a mile in between so that he can pass into the village without being noticed.*_

_~We aren't anywhere near any of the hills here,~ _said Sam.

_*Exactly. It may be another day or so for that, and we will have to rest in the forest.*_

_~Hey, I wasn't expecting a miraculously quick working of this,~ _said Sam. _~But, now that we agree on that, can we eat soon?~_

_*Yes, yes,* _said Jolinar. _*The heat demands that we take a short rest as it begins to cool down again.*_

Sam was glad once again to be reminded that Jolinar felt things as physically as she did.

oooooo

"Hey, Daniel, look at this!" said Mckay, barging into Daniel's lab as he was typing up his mission report.

"What is it?" asked Daniel, taking the sheet of paper from him without standing up.

"The biologists on level 17 got their hands on those bug things, and they sent the venom up for tests to Dr. Frasier," said Mckay.

"Deadly?" guessed Daniel.

"Oh yeah, and much worse," said Mckay, morbidly interested.

"Worse than deadly?" queried Daniel with raised brows.

"Yes," said Mckay. "These bugs don't just want to kill you, they want to use your DNA to make clones of themselves; it's how they reproduce."

"Ick," said Daniel.

"No kidding," said Mckay, taking the paper back. He stood for a moment. "You know, 'shoot first ask questions later' isn't sounding so bad anymore."

"Really?" asked Daniel, genuinely surprised.

"When it comes to bugs," amended Mckay quickly. "Just bugs."

Daniel nodded.

"I just hope I can sleep well tonight," muttered Mckay as he walked out.

Daniel smiled to himself, then paused, taking in what Mckay had said. Everyone they stung would turn into more bugs? He winced, shivered, and then shook his head. Oh yes, just what he needed for his own tranquil sleep. He quickly returned to his mission report.

ooooooo

Sam was glad to wake the next day without a stiff neck. She and Jolinar had traveled until it was past dark, using the faint lights of the village and how much of the night stars were blocked by hills to gauge their location, but had come across nothing and eventually went to sleep. Jolinar's on-mission sleep clock was very tight, and they woke just as the sky was blue-purple and the stars had barely finished disappearing. A slight fog had settled in, and Sam was still a little damp from the sweat of yesterday, but this morning it felt cool and nice and so she didn't care.

By the time tendrils of sunlight poked between the hills and through the trees to dive straight into Sam's eyes, she and Jolinar had traveled another few miles. They would go another few hours that day before finding anything.

Sam could imagine how this mission would have gone without Jolinar's sense of direction. With no knowledge of how the planet was set up, they would have had to carefully travel around in circles until they fully understood it, and even then go slower to make sure they didn't miss anything. As it was, Jolinar seemed to know this place like the back of her hand now, even though she assured Sam that it was nothing of the sort. Sam believed her completely; it was entirely like Jolinar to just know these things.

Even once Jolinar was sure that they had found a good location, though, the sun was high and they had several square miles to search. Afternoon had come when they were pretty sure of the entrance to the secret Tok'ra hideout, was leaving as they nearly gave up, and another hour passed after they actually found it while Jolinar had to guess the password. This Tok'ra apparently didn't trust that only other Tok'ra could find him. In between muttered curses, Jolinar silently admired that independence.

Making contact went well, however. Ollodrin was a tall, well built man with golden-brown skin and smooth black hair and eyes. Even in his underground laboratory, he still had the Jaffa tattoo that allowed him to sneak into the village, and he moved around with the grace of a warrior. It was only when he was explaining his work that his hands became gentle and precise, those of a scientist who understood his art. Jolinar at first nodded as he talked of the modifications to existing Tok'ra technology that he had been working on, and his own pet project of a device that would affect the Goa'uld's ability to fire their weapons. Sam took control after a short while, though, as she at least didn't have to pretend to be interested, and was well able to convey to Jolinar what she would need to report back to the Council.

"You are host to Jolinar, correct?" Ollodrin asked after a good half hour or more had passed.

"Yes, I am," answered Sam.

"I am sorry, I have lived in isolation for my own safety for quite some time, so the events among the Tok'ra are foreign to me," began Ollodrin. "Was Rosha lost?"

Sam nodded, her smile growing pained. "Some time ago, yes."

"Then please tell Jolinar that I am sorry for her loss," said Ollodrin, reaching out and clasping Sam's hand firmly between his. "And I hope that the next centuries are kind to you."

Sam's expression didn't change, her eyes darted slightly to one side, but after a second of hesitation she nodded and smiled her thanks. She wasn't about to explain all the complexities to Ollodrin. Need to know, and he was certainly not enough in the loop to have the need.

Even though it was late evening by the time Sam had conferred with Jolinar to make sure that they had enough to report, Jolinar insisted that they begin their trip back to the gate. Sam, still in control, understood the true reason but didn't have to act much to explain to Ollodrin that Jolinar was a bit obsessive about her work. Even better, Ollodrin knew enough about the Tok'ra to not need any convincing on that point, just a slight bow of farewell.

Leaving the hills, they began the journey back to the Gate the way they came. The terrain looked different to Sam going backwards, but for Jolinar it was similar enough that she seemed to move a little faster and without as many stops. The sun sank below the hills and the air grew cool again.

Just as it was getting dark, though, Jolinar spoke up without being asked for nearly the first time since they arrived at Ollodrin's.

_*Samantha, I believe that now is the time to take on our role.*_

_~You have a plan?~ _asked Sam.

_*The same that I have used before,* _said Jolinar.

They continued traveling for a short while, but Sam noticed that they were getting farther away from the safety of the forest and closer to the river. Soon she could hear its tumbling over short falls and stones that stuck up in its middle, the bubbling crash of small waves mingling with the sound of the water brushing against the overhanging grass on the banks. The moon was full, the stars were bright, and the sun of the day had cleared away all clouds from the sky.

The river grew louder as Jolinar ventured closer, braving the small points of light where Jaffa stood guard with torches and lamps. An hour past dark, the river grew calm and shallow where they were, and that seemed to be the sign for Jolinar's plan to go into action.

On the other side of the river, a lone Jaffa stood by a tall dark house. Inside, all the lights were out. Even as the river ran nearly smooth, it filled the night with a white noise. Crouching low to the ground, her eyes keenly fixed on the Jaffa, Jolinar crept to the edge of the river bank. She drew from her pouch a Tok'ra style needle that would stun a victim quickly and opened it. Slowly, without splashing, she stepped into the river—it was chilly even allowing the warm weather—and counted on the darkness and the gentleness of her movements to hide her from the Jaffa's sight.

Nearly across, she stopped and, stooping until she almost sat in the cold water, splashed lightly on its surface. It was perfectly timed, and Sam saw the Jaffa's head turn slightly. Jolinar splashed lightly again, just loud enough that it might not be a fish, but just soft enough that he wouldn't be absolutely expecting anything more. He stepped down to the edge of the river bank, and Jolinar tossed a small rock out where he was looking to make a soft plunk. With his curiosity peaked just enough, the Jaffa stepped into the river to take a closer look, zat drawn.

Jolinar was silent and deadly, stepping beside him and plunging the needle in his neck just half a second before putting him in a swift lock to keep him from flailing and making noise. All her strength went to keep him from moving, and Sam's muscles ached with the strain this hearty Jaffa put on them. But with one hand over his mouth and the river to keep the noise even more muffled, he couldn't do anything in the four seconds before he went limp. It had worked very well indeed.

Letting him float on the surface to give her arms a rest for a second, Jolinar then pulled the Jaffa to the bank. Without pulling him from the water, she stripped him of all armor and weapons and devices, then without giving a warning to Sam, gave him a lethal dose with another needle. Sam had a moment of shock before she realized that they could never have let him live if they wanted to keep any kind of safety. That was what the river was for as well, to leave no tracks or evidence as well as muffle their theft. Once Jolinar had all she needed, she let the body float away downstream. Who knew how far it would go before anyone noticed, but it was unlikely they would have any idea what to connect it too, and Jolinar and Sam would be well on their way.

Jolinar took all they had collected and made her way back into the forest. When they were once again a good ways from any civilization, she found a good place to hide and laid everything out to dry.

_~Good plan,~ _said Sam, recovered completely.

_*Thank you,* _said Jolinar.

For a moment, Sam had seen in her mind the flash of Goa'uld eyes relishing in the kill—but she knew better. Jolinar's eyes had not flashed because there was no emotion, no feeling bleeding into Sam's mind other than concern for the protection of Sam and others. Perhaps subdued over long years to a practicality rather than an active worry, but it laid Sam's fears to rest again.

Sleep was quick in coming, and Sam knew that she would go to sleep tonight as a Tok'ra and wake up to become a Jaffa. It would be an interesting tomorrow.

—

**Author's Notes:** This chapter covered the events of "Bane", though that was probably clear.

Also, remember that neither side in this story knows anything about the Ancients or that they built the Stargates, populated the galaxy, etc. They don't even know their name yet.

This story is now over 100,000 words, and we haven't even hit the true lynchpin of the story yet. Hope you're all still enjoying the ride! Thank you to all who reviewed—it means a lot to me.


	26. Covert

**Chapter 25 - Covert**

Sam and Jolinar never found out if they had caused a fuss. The morning was spent in Jolinar fashioning a makeshift pouch-looking mark on her stomach, rubber substitute, slime, body paint and all. By the time it was over, Sam was a little grossed out, but saw that as a good sign. The tattoo came next, and though Jolinar had to draw the transfer backwards, it turned out beautifully. Besides, after the chain mail and sheet mail armor was on, it was a minor detail. Jaffa armor was heavy, and Sam was once again glad for Jolinar's extra strength. The form fitting helmet did its job, with Sam's hair just peeking out from under the edge.

After strapping the staff weapon to her back, Jolinar followed a straight path back to the gate, staying far away from any real Jaffa. This disguise was just as dangerous as not having one, for this was most definitely not a world of Quetesh. There appeared to be no hunt out for them, not yet anyway, and they reached the gate in good time. Jolinar dialed a new address, and waited for the chevrons to lock.

_*For this mission, we will have to be inconspicuous at first. I will admit, it is not my strength. Going unseen or showing power, those are no difficult tasks, but I may need your help here.*_

_~Mine?~ _asked Sam.

_*You served under a hierarchy, did you not?~ _asked Jolinar. _*How subordinates speak to superiors is not in my vocabulary.*_

_~You can't expect me to take the lead, though~ _said Sam.

_*I only wish you were well acquainted with Jaffa culture to do so,* _said Jolinar. _*As it is, we will have to work together. You will send me what you think our response should be, and I will try to translate if necessary.*_

_~Right,~ _said Sam. _~We'll see how that works, won't we.~_

_*We have no other choice,* _said Jolinar.

The gate activated, and they walked through.

It was late morning on this planet, and the gate faced pure east. Through the golden glare of bright sun, though, they saw that the gate was on a rocky ridge overlooking a valley in the midst of mountains and ridges. The terrain was half rock and half mountainous grass and brush. The altitude change gave Sam a moment of discomfort in her ears before Jolinar adjusted things.

A few Jaffa stood near the gate, but seeing Jolinar they let their staff weapons rest and nodded.

_*This planet is well-trafficked,* _commented Jolinar as she nodded in response before walking off.

Sam followed Jolinar's eyes as she took everything in. No sign of rigid order, not even of any organized schedule. _~We won't be in danger yet,~ _said Sam. _~Look at how relaxed everything is.~_

_*They are not expecting important visitors,* _said Jolinar. _*Good, good.*_

Staff weapon held high, Jolinar walked down the path from the gate towards civilization.

_~Just a note,~ _said Sam. _~When we do come across someone of higher rank, you'll have to lower your stance a little and not act like you own the place. I don't think it matters now, though.~_

Jolinar acknowledged the fact silently and continued her trek.

The set-up of this village was highly militarized, with only the obvious barracks being larger than the general tents and temporary housing. No grand houses, no slave quarters, this was a Jaffa-only planet. Looking around, one had to assume that they got all their supplies through the gate. In fact, they would have to get everything through the gate. This was the Jaffa equivalent of a cul-de-sac, or a foxhole.

The population was large, however, and so Jolinar had no fear that they could blend in. Women and children were around in some numbers, and a few female Jaffa were visible. There seemed to be a lot of waiting around for orders, though, which served Sam and Jolinar's purpose perfectly.

Quetesh appeared well aware of the needs of her Jaffa, or perhaps they were just rebellious, but there was a tavern in the midst of the village run by the only human slaves visible on the planet. Sam instructed Jolinar to shuffle just a tiny bit as she entered, and curl her shoulders just slightly as she sat down. It might have looked out of place for any other warrior, but Jolinar's tall stance merely looked average when given such corrections. Sam was well pleased when not a head turned to look at them.

After ordering a drink, Jolinar practiced the universal trick of watching people in a room while pretending to be focused on one's food and drink. Jaffa went in and out, talked over tables, drank but not to excess, and in all things kept themselves relaxed without overt laziness. Sometimes, looking out the window, Jolinar kept an eye on the rest of things. She could see the gate, and noticed Jaffa going back and forth around it without it activating.

_*Very low key,* _she finally commented.

Sam suggested eventually that Jolinar lean on her table, closing her stance just a little more for privacy's sake. She knew from experience that it would keep people of Earth away, and was pretty sure that Jaffa weren't different enough to change that fact. Sure enough, only the slaves running the tavern were there long enough to see that Sam and Jolinar stayed for several hours straight.

Nothing happened. Nothing. Happened. The day came and went without the least sign of any progress. Later in the evening, Jolinar took a walk around the civilization, looking into the barracks. There were plenty of bunks that were unslept in, validating their conclusion that this was not a permanently settled community. There would be a free bed tonight, no questions asked.

Night came, the tavern grew full, and Sam and Jolinar stayed outside. This day was meant to be wasted as they blended in, and they weren't ready to face a crowd. The moon was high in the sky before most of the population was in bed, and Jolinar made her first move. Making her way towards the gate, she saw only one Jaffa.

_*Small talk, perhaps?* _asked Jolinar.

_~I assume Jaffa have a lowest-rank-does-watch type system?~ _asked Sam in answer.

_*So far as I've seen, yes,* _said Jolinar.

_~Offer to take his place after a few words, then,~ _advised Sam. _~They obviously aren't worried about intruders here, so he won't be suspicious, and it's easily explainable.~_

Jolinar agreed.

"Watching the stars and not the gate?" Jolinar asked, walking easily up to the Jaffa.

He glanced down. "Of course," he said, and despite his tone Jolinar assumed it was a half-joke. "You have nothing more so important to do?"

"None," acknowledged Jolinar. "I am looking for something to set my mind to, however."

"You will find no such inspiration from me," confessed the Jaffa. "I am in no such focused mood."

"Then perhaps you should postpone your watch until you have found your focus," said Jolinar, giving him a look even in the dim light of the lamp. "Go, eat, drink if you must—I will take the watch."

The Jaffa nodded his thanks, and moved off.

_*Ah yes, success,* _said Jolinar. _*He may be back in a couple hours, but no matter.*_

_~Do you ever feel strange, going to all these planets where day and night are on different schedules?~ _asked Sam. _~It feels like evening to me, not night.~_

_*That is expected,* _said Jolinar. _*It is clear that your culture is new to star-travel if you still think thus.*_

_~Actually, I had almost forgotten it,~ _said Sam. _~I was just wondering why he didn't seem curious about your alertness this late, and then wondered if he expected it with the traffic you say this planet gets.~_

_*You are learning quickly, then,* _said Jolinar. _*A correct assumption. But also, among the Jaffa there is no suspicion; they are brothers. Unless the rumor of the shol'va is rampant, but that is rare among the more minor Goa'ulds.*_

_~What, you can't call him Teal'c?~ _asked Sam.

_*Don't take offense, but that is a perfectly good word that the Goa'uld just use as an insult.*_

_~I don't remember him thinking that way, but it doesn't matter,~ _said Sam. _~So now, we continue on the same line?~_

_*Yes. We should hope that the next call of duty is not for a couple days, so that we may integrate ourselves with it.*_

_~This shouldn't work,~ _commented Sam. _~It's too...doesn't anyone know all their troops?~_

_*Not even close, that is your Earth side talking again,* _said Jolinar. _*With deaths and conversions happening so often, trying to keep records is insane.*_

Sam nodded, and watched the gate. Jaffa did not need to sleep, and so the guard shift went on for many more hours. Finally they were replaced at dawn, and Jolinar found it difficult to suppress a yawn as they retired to the barracks. They received no odd looks, no questions, no notice at all. Sam had a brief moment where she smirked to herself about being a secret agent like her dreams as a little girl, but the sight of the slaves serving the Jaffa quickly brought her around to remembering exactly why she was there. And there was nothing glamorous about it.

ooooooo

Over the next two days, Sam and Jolinar found their task of integration to be relatively easy. Jolinar informed Sam that Ba'al was known for his unorthodox methods of controlling his troops, such as giving them liberties and freedoms instead of crushing down any possibility of rebellion, and Quetesh seemed to have caught on. But perhaps, Sam and Jolinar both thought, not quite as effectively.

At least on this world, the standards were lax. There were three small shipments over both days, and little order or timing at all onto how they were dealt with. Children played in the streets even as the Jaffa marched past in formation, sometimes having to stop and let particularly brash ones get out of the way. Technically they were all ready for one word from their master to move out, but in reality the section of them that were drunk, sleeping, or otherwise incapacitated due to sparring or lovemaking, were enough to make assembling any considerable force nigh impossible on short notice. Thankfully for them, it wasn't called for.

And thankfully for Sam and Jolinar, that meant free flowing liquor and all that went along with it. To keep from getting drunk herself, Jolinar allowed Sam to take control the following night to "socialize" while she stayed back and put forth most of her effort into neutralizing the alcohol Sam imbibed.

"You heard o' that rebellion they talk about?" slurred the Jaffa, a younger man who nevertheless was perfectly professional even when three sheets to the wind. "The one that says we oughta be free."

"Yeah, yeah I have," said Sam, keeping it low key.

"They don't know what they're goin' on about," continued the Jaffa, leaning against the bar from atop his stool. "What're they goin' to do with it? Right now we got a good life, 'n' our lord Quetesh doesn't go for a lot o' war and conquest. She doesn't worry about us 'cause she doesn't have to, why would we want to leave and have to fight?"

"Shol'vas don't know what they're doing, do they?" agreed Sam, downing another sip of the overly sweet ale offered here.

"Oh, they can fight Apophis or Sokar, but it won't do 'em any good when our lord takes 'em all out from within," said the Jaffa confidently, even as his eyes crossed when looking at his drink.

"Right," said Sam, nodding and thinking.

"She already beat out Ba'al for some world and he doesn't even know," finished the Jaffa.

_*Excellent, now we have confirmation,* _said Jolinar from deep in the back of Sam's mind.

Sam nodded, and her Jaffa companion turned to someone else. _~This is very interesting,~ _she commented, finishing off her mug. _~I wasn't really a beer person at home, just wanted to get drunk sometimes...I don't ever remember being able to taste beer after drinking this much.~_

_*Interesting for you, perhaps,* _said Jolinar, less than indulgently. _*You have no idea how much physiological change goes on with every gulp of that vile stuff.*_

_~One, I'm not gulping, two, it was for our mission, and three, what would happen if you didn't do anything? Would you get drunk?~_

_*I am connected to your mind; if you begin destroying it, flooding it with poison, I must withdraw physically or submit to being affected,* _said Jolinar.

_~Anti-alcohol, are we?~ _commented Sam, choosing not to refill her mug. _~It's mainly a social thing, so that doesn't altogether surprise me. And I suppose if I had the choice to get drunk or not, knowing what it would do to me...~_

_*Think instead of what you would think if you understood down to the minute detail exactly what it does to your mind and body,* _said Jolinar.

Sam had to admit, she thought she understood. She couldn't remember the last time she'd gotten truly smashed, actually. A few times offworld she'd let herself go a little, but never getting more than a little tipsy. It hadn't been since her true military days, hanging out with the guys and gals at her post just like now. It wasn't nearly as enjoyable when you lacked the actually drunken part—drunk people made more sense when you were just as far gone as they were.

As Jolinar did not hesitate to remind Sam, though, retaining sobriety of body and emotion was necessary. Through the tavern, Jolinar had become a recognized face for several Jaffa among the lower ranks, but through careful leaking of information had managed to almost retain anonymity. The next stage, which she was just about to begin, was to gain just enough notice among the officers.

Jolinar knew what she had to do, she just wasn't sure of the best details. Sam rolled her eyes, saying, ~_Believe me, I know how to kiss ass.~_

Despite the relative chaos of this world, a sense of order was never fully lost. Not only were their regular training exercises, but duties were carried out, if a little later than immediately. The barracks were maintained, the supplies stored as they were brought through the gate, and little details carried out. Sam advised Jolinar to start volunteering herself for some of the smaller detail jobs, silently not openly, keeping her head just low enough to make it seem like she wasn't trying to get noticed.

So they picked up tables after a bar brawl, rearranged the armory after the organization grew a little lax, refilled the oil lamps by the guard post at the gate, and generally kept the peace whenever necessary. Next they would move on to helping with the shipments through the gate, but not too soon. Nothing would be worse than making their move too soon.

ooooooo

Considering that their last mission had only been three days ago, and their next was little more than routine exploration in a few days, Daniel was quite surprised to get a call for a morning briefing. So surprised, that he promptly forgot when the morning actually came, and was caught in the mess hall by Siler.

"Uh, Dr. Jackson, aren't you supposed to be in the briefing room?"

Spilling some of his coffee on the folder he was carrying as he tried to look at his watch, Daniel cursed to himself in three languages, grasped for a napkin, and tried to clean up on his way to the stairs. No elevator today—even while multitasking Daniel could speed up the stairs.

Even the general had arrived when Daniel stumbled up the last stairs, coffee and stained napkin in one hand and a slightly limp folder in the other, glasses a tad askew on his nose. "Sorry," he muttered, taking his seat and stuffing the napkin in his pocket. The general was always late, which just meant that Daniel was later.

Hammond, who had been sitting with his elbows propped on the table, chin resting on his clasped hands, sat up and cleared his throat. "Now we may open up this briefing."

"Excuse me," said Mckay, raising one hand. "Where is our agenda?"

"This isn't your normal mission briefing," said Hammond. "This is a pre-mission briefing, no agenda yet."

"Aren't our normal briefings pre-mission because they happen before the mission?" continued Mckay.

"It's not my terminology, Doctor," said Hammond shortly. "So let's just move on."

"This isn't about P2R-415 is it?" asked Dixon.

"No and yes," said Hammond. "That mission was given to SG-5, and you've been given theirs, as you were informed. This was an advisory note sent down from people higher up than me, just considering the possibilities of the mission. This briefing is not about either of those missions, but that decision is related."

"Well, if question time is over," said Jack, glancing between Mckay and Dixon across the table, "maybe we can hear what this is all about?"

"P2R-415 was a Goa'uld planet," said Hammond. "The MALP was considerably well received, and it was determined a reasonable risk for an experienced SG team to handle. However, we did not take into account the scheduling of an important mission only a few days afterwards, which you, SG-1, are required to take part in. Not knowing how long the other mission would take, we decided against the gamble."

Mckay was the only one who looked confused.

"Important mission—you mean to kidnap Jolinar," said Jack.

"You're correct, Colonel," said Hammond. "A request was made to discuss well in advance what the situation and tactics relating to that mission are, and I saw no reason to refuse."

"Request?" asked Daniel.

"That would be mine," came a voice from just below the top of the stairs.

They all turned to see as a man leaning on a cane entered the room. Despite his shuffling steps, he fit his general's uniform well, and Daniel felt immediately impressed by the inner strength he saw emanating from the man. Beneath his bald head, he sent a piercing gaze to them all.

"Jacob, glad you could make it," said Hammond, nodding to him. "Gentlemen, this is General Jacob Carter."

"Carter, as in...?" began Mckay, as Jack and Dixon stood in salute.

"Samantha's father, yes," said Jacob, taking a seat next to Hammond.

Daniel was surprised, but held it in, wondering exactly what this could be about. This was Sam's father who had cancer, right? He certainly looked it, but why be here then?

"Jacob, this is the SG-1 that I told you about," said Hammond. "Dr. Daniel Jackson, Colonel Jack O'Neill, Teal'c, Dr. Rodney Mckay, and Major David Dixon."

"An honor, gentlemen," said Jacob, indicating that the military men should sit.

"I didn't think you had clearance, sir," commented Jack as he took his seat.

"A good assumption, Colonel," said Jacob. "But when Hammond said that all he could tell me was that my daughter was in enemy hands, I made it my duty to get that clearance." He smiled grimly. "If you bug enough people about something that you shouldn't know about, they start to get worried about security and will do anything to keep you silent. My position meant they couldn't get rid of me, so there was only one alternative. Of course, I think they're assuming I'll be pushing daisies long before I become a risk," he added with a sardonic look.

"So you're the one who called in this briefing?" asked Daniel.

"I advised that it should take place, yes," said Jacob.

"And I agreed with him," said Hammond. "Jacob's an old friend of mine, and I trust his judgment."

"I've been briefed on the reports of what happened, both when this first started and the recent events on—where was it—Abydos?" said Jacob. He glanced to Hammond, who nodded, and leaned forward a little in his chair while lowering his voice just enough to be confidential. "Gentlemen, I'm not going to rest in peace until I see my daughter again, and I don't care what tactics you have to use. I'm not going to live long enough to get another chance at this. If this mission fails..." he trailed off meaningfully, looking at each of the team one by one.

Jack nodded.

"We understand, sir," said Daniel, as no one else seemed to have anything to say.

"Good," said Jacob, sitting back up and speaking in his previous, sharper, military tone. "Now, if I'm correct, you believe the evidence points to this parasite called Jolinar having influenced Sam, not just taken over her body."

"That's what I believe, yes," said Daniel, jumping in before Jack could protest.

"I must ask—why?" said Jacob, confused curiosity mingling with the interrogation in his voice.

"I'm a linguist, general, and I was a very close friend of your daughter's," said Daniel, finding it a little disconcerting to look Jacob Carter in the eye, but holding the eyeline anyways. "I saw no absolute sign of trickery in our meeting on Abydos, which led me to believe she—Sam—was sincere. But," he added, looking to Jack, "the attack on Abydos seemed to make plain that however sincere, her judgment has been compromised and perhaps overcome by Jolinar."

"As would be expected," said Jacob. "An assumption still, Dr. Jackson, but it doesn't come from nowhere. You're assuming Stockholm Syndrome?"

Daniel nodded.

"The research all points to a very close tie between the minds of symbiote and host," Mckay put in. "I don't see how anyone could resist."

Daniel chewed on the inside of his lip, not wanting to jump in on a mostly irrelevant point, but needing to say to himself at least that if the enemy wasn't trying to convince or persuade, resistance should be possible. Amonet wasn't trying to use Sha're, she just wanted her body.

"When we get her back, I've noticed you don't have a plan," said Jacob. "As the doctor says, this isn't your normal brainwashing."

"It would not seem wise to focus on the end without first addressing how to get to that end," said Teal'c.

"Exactly," said Jacob, nodding his approval to Teal'c's quiet figure near the end of the table. "That's why we're here."

The team readjusted themselves in their seats, now understanding why they had been brought together.

"I don't mean to be disrespectful," began Dixon, "but what's wrong with a simple stunning?"

Daniel shook his head. "She had a personal shield last time."

"So we use a tranq dart," said Jack. "If arrows work, surely those would."

"Wait, wait," said Mckay. He had been sitting back, looking a little bored, but now jumped right in. "Carter's a scientist and if she really is cooperating, she would remember that we know that fact."

Dixon sighed. "He's right, she might have thought of that, modified the shield."

"So we bypass it altogether," said Jacob, and the team turned to look at him. "This shield won't block hands, will it?"

"No," said Mckay. "That's not the point of it."

"So someone gets near to her, needle hidden up the sleeve..." said Jacob.

"I don't know about that," said Daniel, brow furrowed, clenching and unclenching his hand as he thought. "Jolinar was very cautious; I don't think she'd let Sam get too close to any of us. Or maybe Sam wouldn't want to, now."

"You think she might suspect treachery?" asked Jacob.

"We can't know, that's the problem," said Dixon.

"We do have one thing on our side," said Teal'c. "The bond between a parent and child is very close, and even enemies find it almost insurmountable. I do not believe Jolinar would think to try."

"You mean me, right?" said Jacob. "She doesn't know that I'm involved—she doesn't even know I have cancer."

"Indeed," said Teal'c, nodding to him.

"So what, we have the general go up to her and tranq her?" asked Mckay, slightly incredulous. "That's our plan?"

"That thing isn't going to be all sunshine and roses about this, you know," spoke up Jack, who had been frowning ever since the discussion started. "How do we know she won't just shoot as soon as anything gets fishy?"

"That's a good point," agreed Daniel. "Bringing you in, sir," he said, looking to Jacob, "won't seem natural if there's no explanation."

"So tell her I need to see her one last time," said Jacob. "The reason for this meeting is to arrange some kind of treaty or alliance, right? It wouldn't be lying to say I wanted to use it as my last chance to see her, since she's not coming home yet."

"Okay, two very big issues with this plan," said Mckay, sitting up straight and putting out two fingers for emphasis. "First—they can heal, so why not just shoot her? Incapacitated immediately. Have marines go through the gate and fire on sight."

"And after her armor deflects it she opens fire with much better weapons," said Jack, his voice sharp as a needle poking Mckay's idea bubble.

"Okay, but what about this one?" continued Mckay unfazed. "What if this is all just a trap, and this Jolinar doesn't need Sam anymore?"

"We'll prepare for an ambush, Dr. Mckay," said Jacob, in an obvious tone.

"What if Jolinar pretends to be Sam long enough to put a real ambush into place? These are Goa'uld, you don't know what kind of resources they have," said Mckay.

"Simple," said Hammond finally. "If it is an ambush, she'll be expecting bigger names than SG-1. We send you through the gate first, you exchange a few words to make sure of what we're doing. Then, Jacob walks through. She can't break cover by not acting like Captain Carter, so she'll have to play along with Jacob for a little while."

"And by that point it'll all be over," said Jack with a nod.

"Just in case, we can have a team of marines ready to go through at a moment's notice," said Dixon. "She can't dial out, then."

"While we wear bulletproof vests," added Jack.

Jacob nodded at the two. "Not quite foolproof, as I'm sure our doctor friend was about to say, but reasonable."

"Actually, I was going to say it sounds better than most of our mission plans," murmured Mckay.

"Thank you gentlemen, briefing closed," said Hammond. "We'll reconvene on this issue next week, then. Jacob?"

"I can make my own way, George," nodded Jacob, not standing up.

Hammond nodded and stood to retire to his office.

There was silence and stillness around the table, and no one seemed ready to break the circle by leaving.

"So you were a team," commented Jacob quietly, hands resting on the table instead of his lap. "A close one?"

"Indeed," said Teal'c, surprising Daniel as he said at the same time, "Yes."

"We didn't know Captain Carter before," said Dixon, indicating himself and Mckay. "It was a four-man team originally."

Jacob nodded. "From reading the mission reports, I expected you to be a lot less resigned to the situation," he said. "But I would never have tried negotiating with a parasitic life form at all, no matter who they took. It's well that you've since realized what needs to be done."

"It wasn't weakness, sir," spoke up Daniel in defense of their actions. "We didn't—still don't—have a way to save Sam, and we were hoping we wouldn't have to." He sighed. "To be honest, it feels like we're not giving her enough credit even now."

"Maybe I'm just new to all this, but in my military we show our men our trust and respect by not letting the enemy distract us from the point," said Jacob. "You get them out, and you don't worry about whether their feelings are hurt; your determination to save them shows enough."

Daniel half-smiled to himself—it was obvious that Jacob was a father, the way he spoke to Daniel. And he was probably right, for most of the military that was true. Daniel just wondered if Sam was military enough.

"Well, my medical care transfered with my clearance, so I will be seeing more of this base than I ever thought I would," said Jacob, changing the subject. "Despite George, I expect to be very impressed, considering how much money is going into this place."

"Of course, sir," said Jack dryly.

Jacob rose, still a little unsteady, and walked across the room and down the stairs.

"So, we're going on an easy mission next," said Jack. "Joy."

Apparently everyone had decided to leave all the heavy topics they'd discussed in the briefing room, and frankly Daniel didn't mind. As Jack, Dixon, and Mckay rose to go back to their own work, he paused, considering Jack's words. Easy mission...routine exploration...he wondered if Dr. Jordan would like to come along for that one. He'd noticed the signs of life on the planet mentioned in the planet description; this might be the only chance for a while where he could let his old professor get off world. It wasn't every day they got a boring, safe mission.

—

**Author's Notes**: If the SGC's logic seems just a bit off…there's a couple reasons for that, both of which will be addressed in the future.

Also, there's no solid evidence on how the Goa'uld and Jaffa are organized, so much of what you see here is guesswork. Though I did abandon a couple indications from canon because they seemed only to be there due to budget/writing constrictions.

Happy holidays everyone! Due to holiday plans, the next chapter may be a day or two late, but things should be back to their regular schedule after that.


	27. Unsure

**Chapter 26 - Unsure**

Sam started each day of this mission feeling strange, having to give the illusion of belonging while staying more withdrawn than ever before. The more she knew about these Jaffa, the more she felt distant. Jolinar did nothing to dissuade this, or even indicate that it wasn't normal, but sometimes Sam thought of Teal'c and questioned why most of the day was spent in analyzing tactical situations.

It was their fourth day on this world, now, and it was about time for something to happen. Jolinar was becoming continually aware of how long their official mission was supposed to take, and how long they could stay on this one before checking back with the Tok'ra base. Thinking that if anyone knew about long missions it would be Jolinar, who had been gone for nine months and thought it routine, Sam worried a little more because Jolinar was worried. She had no true idea of how Tok'ra missions were meant to go, and it probably couldn't be explained, so she was learning organically.

Last night had hit hard for the population of this world, a holiday of some sorts celebrating, of course, their great god Quetesh. Jolinar commented as she and Sam stayed back from the proceedings that this was a little more carefree than most Jaffa rituals. The level of the proceeding hadn't been debauchery, quite, but the bonfires and feast-like meal portions had enlivened the Jaffa to a near-frightening level.

When the morning rose over the blackened logs still smoking, very few Jaffa rose for early morning march. At least, Sam thought, they weren't passed out drunk over logs and benches. _*Only because their symbiotes take away most hangover symptoms,* _countered Jolinar.

But even though most had started their day a couple hours later, when the gate activated and brought two more Jaffa, few were there to greet them. Sam, however, was one.

"What is the status of this world?" demanded the first Jaffa through the gate, without a first prime symbol on his head but holding himself as one nonetheless.

"Did you not attend Kouralis last night?" asked Sh'rak, representative Jaffa of this world. He, Sam, and the other few who were fully clothed and armored stood in a straight line at least, even if the view beyond them was not so neat.

"Not to excess," explained the visitor, glancing a scornful eye over their shoulders. "Our lord visited her royal temple last night, and found that the slaves are not putting forth their best. Many Jaffa were transfered to her breeding world to deal with the new unruly slaves, leaving few behind at the temple."

Sam and Jolinar perked up at this statement.

"What do you need from us?" asked Sh'rak.

"Six warriors, ready to depart in ten breaths," said the Jaffa firmly.

Sh'rak looked at the Sam and his other two Jaffa and swallowed briefly. Then he folded on arm across his chest in salute, bowed, and the commanding Jaffa nodded in return. There was no negotiation.

"Retrieve your weapons and spare no time for farewells," Sh'rak commanded, and marched off toward the village.

_*Excellent,* _was Jolinar's succinct comment. No need for further remark, they had both prepared for this step and knew what it meant.

It was a few more than ten breaths before Sh'rak came back with three more Jaffa in their armor, but nothing was said. The commanding Jaffa dialed the gate, and with one hand gesture he ordered Sam and her fellow Jaffa through.

They came through onto another very different world, verdant and humid, with a hot sun blazing down. A glittering lake shone in the distance, and an open pyramid that was bright in the light as well. Sam was caught up for a moment in the magnificence, and then her eyes adjusted to the new light and she saw the small figures moving back and forth in the distance. Slaves. Maybe even some Abydonians. As much as Daniel tried to share his love of the great and magnificent cities of the past, Sam couldn't think of them now without knowing full well how they came to be.

_*Quetesh,* _Jolinar half snorted as their new commanding officer ordered them towards the pyramid palace. _*She thinks of pleasure as much as power, for her eyes as well as her flesh.*_

Sam felt a tinge of discomfort every time Jolinar brought up Quetesh; she had mentioned several times that Goa'uld's preferences, and all Sam could do was remember Hathor and yet something that seemed much worse. Of all the Goa'ulds to take people she was responsible for...

They moved quickly towards the massive building. It had been constructed out of some kind of metal, surprising considering its ancient design, and it was not quite finished. The majority of the slaves Jolinar and Sam saw, however, seemed to be transporting supplies that could not have been for building. Sam saw many jars and caskets of ostentatious design, as well as trays full of fancily designed foods.

_*For the priests, as you would call them, and for her less-favored lotars,* _commented Jolinar. _*Quetesh herself very likely only visits when she is bored with her closest slaves, or when she wishes to make an appearance or demonstration. I remember that she kept to her ship nearly always.*_

Still many yards off, the lead Jaffa stopped and turned to them. "Keep close eyes on the traffic," he ordered. "Be ready to show force; these fools have been given some leave for our lord's sake, but they are not protected." His orders now given, he walked off to whatever other business he had on this world.

Sam and the other Jaffa spread out, the others because they were familiar with this role, Sam because she and Jolinar weren't about to get involved just yet.

_~Do you think there are any people from Abydos here?~ _Sam asked.

_*Unlikely,* _answered Jolinar. _*Not among these, in any case. We may find them among the builders, however.*_

_~So our plan?~_

_*Keep on the lookout for any indication of another planet. The breeding world mentioned may be a lead, if we can get the correct gate address. But for now we need to keep our place here.*_

Sam nodded, and let Jolinar do what was the easiest part about this role as Jaffa, stand as master over others. This should have reminded Sam of how disturbing her ease with domination was, but the complete detachment from Jolinar's regular personality that was evident even across the barrier between their minds calmed some of her worries. As for the others? Since Jolinar's revelation, Sam had, she had to admit, had reservations. Sometimes there would be a twinge of doubt about Jolinar's intentions, sometimes an instinctual moment of fear, even if soon diminished. One thing she had come to realize was that she had now spent more time interacting with the Tok'ra than she had ever done with the Goa'uld. She had thought more about the Tok'ra than the Goa'uld now too, even if crammed into a few short months. That amount of knowledge seemed to buffer her sense of trust against the still somewhat-unknown terror that the Goa'uld had always posed. She hoped that one day Jolinar would be nothing but a Tok'ra in her mind.

After a while, Sam turned her focus back onto their mission. Jolinar had her keen eyes fixed on the traffic coming to and from the temple, and she moved up and down the lanes as the minutes passed. Despite their relative surety that the Abydonians would not be among those trusted with temple property, neither wished to lose any opportunity. Any signs of newness, and Jolinar was ready to change her mind.

But it slowly proved disappointing. The slaves all seemed comfortable in their roles, barely needing the Jaffa's direction at all. Also, Sam noted and conveyed to Jolinar, while there were several cultures present among the slaves, so far none had the look of the Abydonians. Jolinar watched more closely, and after a while had to agree. Apparently Quetesh's rule was as small as they predicted.

Over the next couple hours, Jolinar inched her way towards the temple itself. The nearer they drew, the more Sam grew distracted by its structure. The Goa'uld were normally very advanced in their technology, but this temple seemed to have no practical purpose. It was plainly not a ship, neither could one land in or on it. Through the gaps in construction, Sam noted that there did not appear to be any technology, only adornment. And yet, Jolinar had said that Quetesh was shrewd. It made Sam even more itching to get a closer look.

Hours passed, and the colored robes of the slaves that had been so bright faded slowly as the sun dipped behind a thin cloud layer. Spirits, likewise, seemed to dim as the day went on, but what Sam noticed most of all was that there had never been many to begin with. The Jaffa were solely dedicated to their work; the slaves had no choice. Even fully believing they served their god, they had little energy to give to to her work.

Before the day was out, Jolinar was at the bottom of the great steps that led up into the temple. Things had not slowed all day. Every few seconds a slave would walk past, hands or arms full. Sam marked the variety of items: fresh bread, silk, gold bricks, wooden idols, tapestries, lamp oil, polished chains, carpet, jewelry and coin baskets, perfume, and so forth. Inside the temple, Jaffa stood round in fewer numbers.

_*They only fear that some slaves may escape into the woods or to the gate,* _commented Jolinar after a long silence. _*Where could a slave go in here?*_

_~Why don't we go in?~ _asked Sam. _~We have seen everything else.~_

_*Patience,* _said Jolinar.

Sam chortled.

_*Don't laugh, it is good advice,* _protested Jolinar.

Sam did settle herself for a little more waiting, and wondered about their goals for tomorrow. Until they found an address for one of Quetesh's breeding worlds, or any other hint to where the Abydonians might be, they were at a dead end and yet could not leave. It would only be a couple days, however, before their absence would be far too suspicious to the Tok'ra. Jolinar had acknowledged this earlier, but Sam wondered what her limit would be.

The sun sunk behind the crisscrossed beams of the pyramid tall above them, and Jolinar eased her way into the temple courtyard. Despite the day not being over, many of the sounds and smells seemed to dull in the evening air, leaving mainly the loud sounds of construction far above. And once sunset came, even those stopped once and for all. The temple lights were brighter than most, but even they could not remove all shadows. Jolinar kept herself in the spy-friendly half-light and began to look closely for the builders coming down and to their quarters.

A few passed, then a few more, going on until a few hundred had passed. There were only a couple that might have been Abydonian, but the air that Jolinar read in their figure and manner of movement seemed to belie it. No, these unfortunate souls had been under the whip for more than the past two weeks. Frustrated, Jolinar eventually left the temple to its few late-night guardians and descended into the complexes around the rest of the planet. Tonight they would have to spend with the Jaffa, and hopefully tomorrow they could find something more.

The tents and buildings common to all Goa'uld settlements were crowded beyond the lake, with only few fires among them so as not to diminish the glowing glory of Quetesh's temple. Jolinar walked through, catching sight of only a few faces in the flickering torchlight.

They were about near their destination, when two Jaffa and a slave walked towards them. Jolinar saw nothing until the slave gave her a second glance. The light was bright at that spot, but even then it took a couple seconds for Sam and Jolinar to realize what they saw.

_~Kasuf?~_

If he had recognized them at all, Kasuf wisely chose to stay low, and continued walking past them without another look. Despite their sudden curiosity, Sam and Jolinar did the same.

_~How?~ _asked Sam, without a full question.

Jolinar said nothing. After she had gone far enough, she turned around and watched as Kasuf and his two Jaffa escorts disappeared into a building. _*That was neither slave nor Jaffa housing,* _she said. _*Something strange is going on.*_

But Sam was more intrigued than she had been all day. _~We have something, at least,~ _she said.

Jolinar finished walking into the torchless Jaffa housing, finding an empty cot in the darkness and shedding her armor as quietly as possible. _*We saw no other Abydonians,* _she said.

_~So why is he here?~ _Sam continued the line of questioning. _~Interrogation?~_

_*He would have been in prison, then,* _said Jolinar. Removing her skull cap as the final piece, she ran her hands once through her hair to loosen it from its sweat-flattened state. _*No, there must be possibilities that we cannot judge. Tomorrow we must find our way to him.*_

As Jolinar lay down on the cot, pulling up the blanket over the tunic she wore beneath the armor, Sam could already feel her symbiote's active thoughts fading as sleep came. Sam was surprised to find that she also was growing drowsy; their sleep patterns had rarely aligned so well. Even with developments furthering, she was asleep within minutes.

ooooooo

Daniel was about ready to leave the SGC early, having a few supplies to pick up in Colorado Springs before the mission in two days, when his email pinged. He barely tossed the program a glance, getting ready to logout—and then he saw who had sent it. One thing was sure; he wasn't going to ignore Janet.

Sighing, looking at his watch, he put down his stuff and opened up his top drawer. Digging around for a few seconds, he found the file he was looking for. Then, hopping in the elevator, he made his way to the infirmary.

"Dr. Jackson?" said Janet, eyes wide in her round face. "What is this, record time?"

"Here's the schedule," he said, handing her the papers. "I, uh, didn't fill in all the days. Kind of got a little busy."

"And you apparently didn't read to the end of the email," said Janet, smiling up at him as she took the file. "This wasn't due until tomorrow—it only takes a few hours to do the analysis, and then a few more to get it ready for your mission the day after. I just assumed you wouldn't notice that you had mail until tomorrow morning."

"Oh," said Daniel blinking. Then, with a quick smile, "Surprise."

Janet chuckled. "I know you kept track, but I'd like to hear from you personally: how do you think this mixture worked?"

Daniel paused, already half-forgetting what he had planned to do. "Well, it stopped most of my allergen symptoms around base," he said. "So maybe environmental and food allergies of Earth are covered."

"That would make sense," said Janet. "I was hoping this level of antihistamine would work for other worlds as well, though."

"Well, it wasn't too bad," said Daniel. He paused, then added, "When I remembered to take them."

Janet pursed her lips. "Well, I'll get you your next set of doses by next mission, but I'll need you to be more consistent. You do know what that means, Dr. Jackson?"

"Yes," said Daniel, nodding. "I do."

Janet smiled. "Don't bother trying that ploy, or I'll put Dr. Mckay in charge of reminding you."

"You wouldn't," protested Daniel.

"Can you deny that it would work?" asked Janet. Daniel opened his mouth, and closed it again. "So I thought," she said. "Thank you, Dr. Jackson, that is all."

Janet walked briskly across her infirmary, heels clicking loudly in the quiet. Daniel put his hands in his pocket, and walked back towards the elevator.

"Dr. Jackson?"

He stopped, catching the voice to his right. Turning, he saw Jacob Carter propped up in one of the beds. "General sir," he said, surprised. Apart from the briefing, he hadn't seen or heard of Sam's father at all.

"Do you have a moment?" Jacob asked.

Daniel nodded, walking over to his bed. The older man looked tired, frailer than the last time Daniel had seen him. There were circles under his eyes, and even those were pale, only the still-strong light of his spirit keeping them from looking lifeless.

"Your doctors have had me bedridden almost from day one," Jacob started, not completely grumbling, "which has given me a lot of time to think—a lot more than before I came here."

Daniel wasn't sure where things were going, but thankfully Jacob didn't ramble.

"Your theory about Sam—in the briefing report, all of you seemed to imply that Jolinar was impersonating her, nothing more," Jacob said, looking closely at Daniel. "But now your opinions seem to have shifted towards thinking that Sam herself was part of it, and that Jolinar had only influenced her. Which is it, in your opinion?"

"You don't miss much," commented Daniel, gathering his thoughts.

"I would hope not, given my former occupation," said Jacob, looking out from under his brow at Daniel. "Well?"

"I actually hadn't noticed that discrepancy," admitted Daniel, taking a seat next to Jacob. "I guess I always believed Sam was there, even if she had changed. The others weren't so convinced then, but maybe deep down they think my account was plausible. Maybe they just think that it's Sam's influence that makes Jolinar's behavior different." He shrugged, withdrawing his hands from his pockets and letting them rest in his lap.

"I obviously can't have a strong opinion on the subject," said Jacob, inhaling deeply. "And even your people—neither side has more evidence in its favor, so it would be easy to switch. But Dr. Jackson, I want to know your opinion. You saw her; so did Teal'c, but I have to admit I'm a little frightened of him," finished Jacob with a dry half-smile.

Daniel gave an answering smile, even though his intimidation by Teal'c had ended quite some time ago, except for a little vestigial impression of just how powerful the Jaffa was. "I think my opinion hasn't changed," he said. "I thought that I saw Sam on Abydos, that she was different but not in the way that an impersonation is. What happened later was puzzling, but it also fits the theory." He exhaled after a pause. "I'd be happy to be proved wrong, though."

Jacob nodded. "It would make the rescue easier. What comes after, at least."

"Whatever's going on, we'll make it right eventually," said Daniel, nodding his head. "Even if it takes a lot of patience."

Jacob nodded his head once. Daniel sat still for a moment, thinking. Jacob cleared his throat and looked closely at Daniel. "Dr. Jackson, were you and my daughter romantically involved?" he asked pointedly.

Daniel coughed. "What? Sam? Uh, no," he foundered.

Jacob put up a hand, even if weakly. "Never mind, I've got my answer," he said. "Just a father's prerogative, you know."

Daniel looked grateful.

"I wouldn't have minded if you were," added Jacob, giving him a look. "You're a good man, from what I've seen."

"I'm also married," explained Daniel.

"Oh," said Jacob.

Daniel was partly glad that Jacob didn't ask for a further explanation of that story. No more conversation to be had, he then remembered his reason for coming here at all. There might be a chance to finish all his trips if he hurried. "Well, I have some other things to get done this afternoon," he said, standing up.

Jacob nodded. "I will see you again some other day, then," he said.

Daniel nodded back and left the infirmary. He had not been expecting that conversation at all, but he wasn't likely to forget it. One thing was sure: Sam's way of intriguing people was probably a genetic trait.

ooooooo

The morning shift on Quetesh's temple planet was getting into place by the time Sam and Jolinar had their own plan ready. They had woken early and, as inconspicuously as possible, tried to locate Kasuf and see if there was any possible way to come into contact. He was not continually escorted, they found out, but never left the vicinity of attentive Jaffa. At last, however, he and some of the Jaffa made their way towards the temple.

Since that was once again Jolinar's area of duty, they had no qualms in following at a distance. Like the other slaves, he was clad in brightly colored robes of various hues, in a style that would have been interesting had it not been the garb of slavery. From the occasional glimpse of his face that they caught, Sam and Jolinar both noticed that he looked wearier than ever before, but not entirely downtrodden.

Before the sun had climbed to the peak of the pyramid as they saw it from below, Kasuf was accompanied into the very temple itself. There were more Jaffa today, and more slaves, all busy at work in achieving perfection for their god. Farther back from the large open space in the center of the massive building, there was a smaller chamber where a gilded throne sat among glittering golden and bejeweled walls. Kasuf went to his knees automatically, but Sam guessed that it was only because the Jaffa would otherwise force the issue.

The Jaffa returned to the outer room, apparently until Kasuf's penance or prayers were concluded. He did not move from his kneeling position. Jolinar had given Sam control for the moment, and she glanced around the room. No one was within a hundred feet. Walking forward until she could stand behind one of the columns, she decided that this would be a safe place.

"Kasuf," she whispered, her voice carrying enough in the relative quiet of this place.

Kasuf's head rose an inch, but he said nothing.

"Kasuf, do not look at me, but nod if you hear?"

Kasuf slowly nodded. "Who is it?" he answered in a low tone.

"Sam Carter again," said Sam.

"How are you here?" asked Kasuf back.

"It's kind of complicated, but we were looking for you and your people," said Sam.

"I did not seek your help," said Kasuf.

Sam blinked. Was she supposed to take that as an insult? Kasuf's back was still to her, and he was holding very still.

"Where is your team, where is SG-1?" asked Kasuf, sounding confused.

"You contacted them?" asked Sam.

"Yes, and they saved most of us," said Kasuf, lowering his head as he still knelt. "You are not here at their request?"

Sam was confused, and the pieces still flew around her head as she tried to put them in order.

_*Your team saved some of the Abydonians, but not all,* _said Jolinar. _*That is impressive by itself.*_

_~But how did they know?~ _asked Sam.

"Carter?" asked Kasuf uncertainly.

"How did it happen?" asked Sam. "Does SG-1 know you're here?"

"I do not know, I was taken before they arrived," said Kasuf. "But there was commotion before Heru'ur came, and my people said that Teal'c tried to rescue them. There are only several hundreds of us enslaved now, so the others must have been saved."

"And they weren't killed on the planet or captured by Heru'ur."

"I would not have expected that," said Kasuf easily.

Sam found his firm belief in her people endearing, but she would not have made such an assumption.

"Are you here to rescue us?" asked Kasuf.

Sam breathed out, now caught up and ready to address the subject she had planned for. "That's our plan," she said. "We didn't see any of your people here, though."

"There are none at this time," said Kasuf. "Many were taken to where they could give their children to the false god, and some were taken to serve in her royal court. The others were sent here, but my people did not submit easily. I am to serve penance in prayer while they do so through hard labor, until they are ready to return and prepare this place for the false god's return."

Sam sighed.

_*Complicated,* _commented Jolinar. _*What a shocking revelation.*_

"Do you know the locations of these worlds?" asked Sam.

_*Quetesh's court is on her flagship,* _commented Jolinar.

"No, I do not," Kasuf answered.

Sam grimaced. _~So?~_

_*We can find the breeding worlds on our own, possibly,* _said Jolinar. _*But only time will bring the workers to this place; the places they send unruly workers are well guarded and kept shrouded in secrecy.*_

_~So we keep up our position here,~ _agreed Sam. "Kasuf?" she said aloud. "We think we can find the others, but we won't be able to do anything until your people come back here."

"I understand," said Kasuf.

"We may not come to you again for a while," said Sam.

Kasuf gave a final nod, and then Jolinar and Sam left the inner chamber. Their role on this planet had suddenly become more simple, but it was as if they had stepped back from the picture and saw a web of complexities that they could not have guessed from the small portion they had been looking at.

_~What about Quetesh's court?~ _asked Sam.

_*We will deal with that once we get there,* _said Jolinar. _*There will only be a few there; Quetesh is discriminate in her closest slaves. If we get that far and remain successful, we shall be fortunate.*_

_~So how will we back out of this and get back to the Tok'ra?~ _asked Sam after a mental nod.

_*Carefully,* _said Jolinar. _*If you had not noticed, the traffic to this world is even more so than on the previous world. Be glad we are not encamped on a world with a self-sufficient and settled civilization where the gate is only activated rarely.*_

Sam nodded. She noticed that Jolinar's tension and concentration had relaxed a little, and her mood eased out. Despite the frustration of further complications, they had gotten good news today. Most of their job was already done, and they could only assume that SG-1 had taken the other Abydonians to safety; they knew when and mostly where the rest of the captives could be found; they had a plan that was based on certainties. Sam had to admit, she was feeling good as well—not elated, but good.

Her one remaining question, however, was how and why her team had ended up in a position to help the Abydonians. What were they planning to do? What did they think happened? It was only a week before she would face them again, but she wondered what answers she would get.

—

**Author's Notes**: This new planet with the temple does indeed have a purpose to Quetesh and to this story, but it won't come into play for a while. Also, Jacob's comments at the end of his conversation with Daniel was a reference to Carmen Argenziano's belief that Jacob would support the Sam/Daniel shippers.

Thanks for being patient with the holidays delay. They're affecting me more than I thought, given that these chapters are already written and mostly edited. I'm afraid the next chapter will also probably be a day late, two at most.


	28. Relaxation

**Chapter 27 - Relaxation**

Hammond had been enjoying the quiet day at the SGC. SG-1 was not on a mission, and no other team was embarking today. Instead, they were all on leave or already on a adventure-less mission. Things rarely worked out this way, but Hammond relished them when they did. He had even taken the time to visit Jacob in the infirmary. His heart was sore for his old friend, especially as he saw how Jacob grew daily worse despite all the best efforts, but it was some small comfort to be available for him if he needed to talk. And apart from the occasional squabble among scientists or other base personnel, his job had flowed smoothly today.

Both Mckay and Jackson had submitted their reports of scientists to recruit early on, but the other departments had taken a little longer. Hammond had been supervising some of it, but much of it was below his level of concern and so he only saw the results. There were a few new physicists, biologists, chemists, engineers, and a psychologist, not to mention some more medical assistants, just to maintain the needs of the SGC itself; many more had been recruited to R&D at Area 51. Like in any scientific community, or so Hammond had been told, their differing opinions frequently led to loud debate and bickering, and occasionally it would need a general's intervention.

Hammond had to admit to himself, he probably should have retired as he had planned. Running a military operation that explored other planets was a fascinating idea, but nowhere in the fine print had he read anything about negotiating between the Nobel convention and his own airmen in very close underground quarters. He had to shake his head sometimes. Dr. Jackson's proposal for a broader science contingent on base had been met with the sort of enthusiasm which meant that the government had just been ready to put it forward as their own suggestion, and Hammond understood their reasons. It was just—well, scientists were beyond Hammond's ken.

"Ah yes, General."

As was Jack O'Neill. "Come in, Colonel," said Hammond, trying to hide the hint of apprehension that always met him on seeing his foremost team leader.

 Jack all but strolled in, tossing a file from one hand to another as if it were a hot potato. "Finally, I am ready to get this into someone else's hands," he said.

"Is that what I think it is?"

"No, sir, it is not my deepest apologies for all the trouble I've given you—that's still in first draft," said Jack.

Hammond gave him the look.

Jack sobered up quickly, something he did more often these days. "It is, though, the paperwork for transferring all the people of Abydos to a new world."

Hammond put out his hand to take it. "Would you like to sit, Colonel?"

"No, sir, I don't expect to be here that long," said Jack lightly.

Hammond scanned the file speedily. "This other signature here?"

"Adros," said Jack with a sigh. "Hopefully the last I will see of him for a very long time," he muttered. Off Hammond's look he added, "Oh, he's a good kid, Daniel's type, but after hearing oh so many times why he didn't think his people could live on a world that was not covered in sand...well, surely you understand."

"He's appointed himself as leader then, in Kasuf's absence?" asked Hammond. When he'd appointed Jack in charge of the Abydonians, he hadn't expected regular reports, but he had heard absolutely nothing of them since their temporary settlement on the Alpha Site.

"I think he'd prefer ambassador," said Jack. "Actually, they'd like to name Daniel as honorary leader, since he's the closest heir of Kasuf, but I told them they wouldn't like how big his head would get."

"So Adros is as close as they're getting," said Hammond.

"Well, sir, they think we'll rescue Kasuf and the rest of their people," said Jack pointedly, hands stilling for a few seconds.

"You told them that we have no information on that?"

"Yes, sir," said Jack. Hammond could see the frustration in his face; it was cutting him just as much as Daniel at how little they could do.

"Until they're settled down on their new home, you are still in charge of keeping me apprised, Colonel," said Hammond, changing the subject and closing the file. "I'll sign these and get you the permission to start movement as soon as possible."

"Thank you, sir," said Jack, clapping his hands lightly together and turning on a heel to leave.

Hammond settled back into his very comfy chair, looking more closely at the file to see where to sign.

"Um, sir?" A young woman in a pale blue labcoat knocked at his open door. At that distance, Hammond had to squint to see Chloe Dorris, Ph.D on her nametag.

"Yes, Dr.?" asked Hammond.

"Is there any way to keep the marines from barging into the labs every time there's a little explosion?" she asked, her light voice exasperated.

"What exactly are you detonating?" asked Hammond, suspiciously.

"We're testing the effects of Jaffa weaponry on various Earth elements, in very small increments," Chloe said, holding up two fingertips held very close together. "It's not dangerous, just a little smoky."

"Ma'am, those marines are there for your safety, I suggest you tolerate them," suggested Hammond.

Giving a light feminine sigh, she walked off. Hammond gave a silent snort, and turned back to Jack's report file.

ooooooo

With a little luck, a little obscurity, and just enough stress to get their blood going, Jolinar and Sam made their retreat from Quetesh's temple world through the gate to an empty one, and then from there back to the Tok'ra home-world itself. The night on the planet had not brought anything to destroy their bare optimism, and so they arrived home not needing to act in order to appear satisfied.

Sam met with Garshaw to relate what they had learned from Ollodrin, and found that Jolinar had a moment of surprise at just how much there was. _~Someone wasn't listening,~ _insinuated Sam playfully. Garshaw herself was expressionless, a look Sam had only seen when the Tok'ra leader was talking to other Tok'ra; she had always had an annoying hint of anticipation in her eye when talking to Sam. Anticipation of what, Sam had never figured out. At the end, Garshaw gave a short nod, and Sam walked off.

The mess hall was their first stop. They had not taken the time to eat breakfast this morning, both thinking that it would be best to avoid any notice on Quetesh's world at all, even of the innocuous kind. Sam glanced over the food available and took some of her favorites, pausing even without subtle nudging from her symbiote to grab the rare off-world fruit that Jolinar loved, and then she took her seat. Much of the Tok'ra staples were soft in flavor, being the foods that could be grown underground with their technology, but they were supplemented with foods acquired through trade that made the meals about as good as MREs. Well, that was harsh—some of them were quite good, once Sam was used to the flavors. No spices, though; the Goa'uld coveted those for themselves, and the Tok'ra saw it as an unnecessary risk to try to acquire them. And maybe if Sam had grown up with that mindset, she would have agreed with it.

Despite the lack of thoughts directed to her, Sam noticed that Jolinar's mind was busy while Sam ate. She couldn't be sure what it was, but despite the barrier between them Sam enjoyed Jolinar like this. The symbiote seemed to gravitate most often between direct speech thoughts and the sometimes-uncomfortable silence of privatized ones. This mental hum, Sam had learned, was only capable when symbiotes did not think of keeping their mind quiet. Sam didn't comment on it, but she liked it; it reminded her of being in rooms full of excited scientists muttering their thought processes to themselves. She knew Jolinar had nothing so scientifically complex to think about, but the feeling was still the same.

Glancing around the mess hall, she saw a few Tok'ra that she recognized. Then her brow creased, and she chewed the patty that tasted like a cross between potato and pumpkin a little more rhythmically. Jolinar had a few friends on this base, and Sam had been introduced to them, but Jolinar had only sought time with them on a few occasions over these months. Sam had attributed that after-the-fact to Martouf's comment about Tok'ra life-spans and how long they could wait without impatience. Not now, though.

Drawing her thoughts to herself, gently so as not to alert Jolinar, Sam began to brainstorm. The first suspicion that came to mind was that Jolinar had only just started to get over the loss of Rosha. The unspoken loss. The one that Sam had expected to overwhelm her during the first few days of blending, and yet had remained elusive and cryptic. From the vague comments, she had assumed that the Tok'ra did not deal with grief the same way that she knew. And that was likely true, but Sam now doubted that they were as alien as her first assumption. The private thoughts, the distant behavior to old comrades, the dedication to work with few outside activities...it added up in Sam's mind to a kind of depression.

And with that conclusion, she answered for herself many questions she hadn't been asking. Part of her felt that she should have noticed sooner, the other part was glad she had noticed it as things were getting better, as she would have had little idea how to help Jolinar. But, as made sense, the symbiote had recovered on her own. Sam wondered if Martouf or Lantash had known—surely they must have, Lantash at least, knowing what loss had happened and feeling it themselves. Their relationship rested on a lot of unspoken words, surprising considering Martouf's eloquence, but Sam had no doubt that it had been enough for them.

As if in answer to her thoughts, she looked up to see the white flash of Martouf's smile as he crossed the mess hall to her. Hiding a smile, Sam suppressed not for the first time the thought that the Tok'ra must have some kind of orthodontist.

"You forgot to eat?" asked Martouf, sitting across from her as always.

"We thought it best to leave early," said Sam, remembering their cover story of having been on Ollodrin's world the whole time. "The gate seemed unguarded, but you never know."

Martouf nodded. "I am always surprised at how Ollodrin takes so long to find when his world is so calm."

Sam's brow creased again. "Hmm, yes, I didn't really think of that. He didn't strike me as paranoid."

"Because he is not," explained Martouf. "Just—unflinchingly careful. His heart is free, but wherever his mind is at work there is perfect order."

"You know him then?" asked Sam.

"I used to be his usual contact," said Martouf.

"Back when you went on more missions," Sam followed from his statement.

"More infiltration, yes," said Martouf with a faint smile in his eyes. "I believe that in his heart Lantash still misses those times. But I quickly grow weary of subterfuge, and he is not completely content when I am not, so there is no regret."

"I think I enjoy the missions, more than I thought I would at least," said Sam, taking a sip of her warm tea-like drink.

Martouf's head tilted a little, his eyes darting to look into hers, but they withdrew and he said nothing.

"What?" asked Sam, curious.

He shook his head. "It is nothing. I have heard from Garshaw of Ollodrin's research, but did you speak to him personally?"

"Not really, sorry," said Sam. "We were—kind of in a hurry."

Martouf nodded. "Yes, I can see why Jolinar would be hasty after the finding took so long."

Sam nodded, feeling a twinge of guilt at not letting Martouf in on the truth. Jolinar's mental hum had ceased once Martouf began talking, but she didn't seem to have anything urgent to say. Turning her attention back to her other companion, Martouf's eyes seemed to have grown a little distant as Sam assumed he was communing with Lantash. After a moment, he closed his eyes and Lantash spoke next.

"Samantha, greetings," he said.

"And to you," Sam answered, always a little amused by Lantash's speech patterns.

"There were some messages for you while you were gone," said Lantash. "None urgent, or we should have spoken sooner, but you should know. Sho'nar, Kurlsa's host, wished to send his thanks to you. His time has been difficult, but he wishes to know that he recognizes its relative brevity is because of you and Jolinar."

Sam nodded, a little surprised but appreciative.

"He and Lensin, Cordesh's host, have been making progress together," added Martouf, breaking in. "Despite the tragedy, their having mutual experience for support was perhaps worth Cordesh's double offense."

Sam nodded again, glad for the extra information. She had asked before if Martouf helped with hosts and had been told no, but he was a close friend of the Tok'ra version of a psychiatrist.

Lantash returned. "Also, Reyfa and Anise sent word on the Goa'uld lab that you discovered. Anise broke the code on the locked files in the database, and there is much fascinating information." He paused and frowned. "I believe she mentioned Ra and some projects, but truth be told I did not see the importance of all her words."

Sam smiled. "That's okay, I can always ask her or Reyfa to explain."

"Sha're wishes to speak to you about Shifu," Lantash continued, "and when I talked to Garshaw just now she mentioned that the Council wishes to meet with you before your next mission."

"Any particular reason?" asked Sam.

"I believe it is about your parley with your own people," said Lantash.

"Mm," Sam said.

"Don't be overwhelmed, you are not obliged to do it all at once," added Lantash, settling back comfortably in his chair. "In fact, I do not think the scientists expect a quick response, and I know that Sho'nar and Lensin do not expect one at all."

 Sam gave him a look.

"Oh, yes, you didn't need to be told that," said Lantash, his tone dry. "Or so you think."

"Don't try to mess with me, it won't work," Sam muttered through a mouthful of food.

As she swallowed, Jolinar gave a gentle press for control, and Sam granted it. Jolinar tactfully waited until Sam had finished swallowing, so that her throat muscles were not suddenly in another's power.

"Lantash, you have annoyed my host into silence," said Jolinar, taking another sip of her drink.

"You know I do not believe that," said Lantash with a breathy snort.

"It was that or you annoyed me into speech."

"Also unbelievable," said Lantash. He leaned across the small table, Jolinar reciprocated, and they kissed briefly. Sam had noticed for some time now that they had dropped the pretense that there was no desire for more in all their interaction of that nature. "Welcome back," he said in a low tone when they separated.

"I am soon gone again," said Jolinar.

"So we heard," said Lantash. "And with your parley in four days?"

"What would I spend four days here doing?" asked Jolinar.

Lantash's face lost a little of its lightness, and Martouf came forward when his partner had no words. "Selmak is losing the battle swiftly," he said. "She may not have more than twice these four days."

"I will not sit here and watch," said Jolinar firmly.

"I am not pressing you to," said Martouf quietly. "It was a fact only."

Jolinar swallowed, and there was no food in her throat.

_~Hey, you okay with this?~ _asked Sam, her mind a little more aware of Jolinar since her private revelation.

_*What?* _asked Jolinar.

_~Well, I don't think they're going to ask, so I might as well,~ _said Sam.

_*You were not a student of the mind on your world, where does this come from?*_

_~I might as well be a student of your mind, since I can't exactly help it. And, yes, I know that you and Selmak seem to have this 'don't ask don't tell' contract for this. But what do you always say? Duty isn't everything?~_

"Jolinar, it would do you well to listen," said Martouf, speaking over Sam's last couple words.

Jolinar looked at him closely.

"No, I cannot see into your mind," he said with a wry smile. "But I know Samantha, and I think by your reaction that my guess as to your conversation was accurate."

"If your goal is to make me talk, then I will talk," Jolinar answered them both. "But you will not be satisfied." There was a welcoming pause from both parties before Jolinar finished her thoughts. "The loss of Selmak and Saroosh will be a deep wound to me, and it has already begun to smart. But I have no words to say, and I know they have no words for me to hear, so I do not try."

Martouf nodded, a darkness settling in his usually bright eyes. "For ones so full of opinions, they have taken this end very silently."

"As is only their right," Jolinar sighed. "Please, Martouf, have we not settled this?"

"I had nothing further to say," said Martouf, his smile returning a little.

"I will meet with Sha're, and then the Council, and then I wish for a restful evening," said Jolinar.

"Checkers?" asked Martouf. "Selmak taught me how to play."

"I do not know, but I am sure Samantha will teach me," said Jolinar. "Yes, that will be well indeed."

"Then I shall look forward to seeing you then," said Martouf. Reaching out his hand, he squeezed hers and rose to depart.

Jolinar and Sam soon followed.

ooooooo

"Good heavens, Daniel, you poor thing," were Dr. Jordan's first words upon descending many floors in the elevator into Stargate Command.

"Hmm?" asked Daniel.

"This must give you worse SAD then your stint in Oregon," continued Jordan, seemingly commenting as the words came to his head. "And you have spent the last three years here?"

"A good third of it was offworld, remember?" said Daniel, understanding him at last.

"Ah yes, I do keep forgetting that," said Jordan with a crinkled smile. "My mind is very diligent in keeping me from foolish thoughts, and I have not yet trained it to accept other worlds completely. It is quietly determined to mend me of my brief stint into this folly."

Daniel grinned broadly at him. "It does feel like that, or so I've been told."

After getting Hammond's permission to invited Dr. Jordan on their next quiet mission, it had been a short effort to get the good professor himself. Despite his close work with Daniel's old companions Stephen Rayner and Sarah Gardner, Jordan had been able to withdraw himself with no questions, or so he said. And he was going to get the grand tour before the mission much later that day—the planet they would be going to had a day cycle nearly the opposite of Earth's, which would have made morning on Earth evening on the planet.

"So, this team of yours...they are not all scientists?" asked Jordan.

"Oh—no," said Daniel, wondering how that fact had managed to escape his explanation. "Jack and Dixon are U.S. military, Teal'c is an alien warrior, a Jaffa like I mentioned, and Rodney Mckay's an astrophysicist."

"Oh, yes, I see," said Jordan, lips pursing as he took in this information. "And you are respected on this team? Well, well."

"It's amazing how this place has validated archaeologists," said Daniel, hands demonstrating his earnestness as he swept them across the scene before them.

"More than those idiotic Spielberg films, certainly," snorted Jordan.

Daniel nodded, walking past one of the armories towards the guest quarters to get Jordan settled before the rest of the tour. He had thought about asking Hammond for VIP quarters, but knew his old professor too well to think he'd just go along with that.

"Hey, Jackson, need a weapon?" called Dixon, walking out of the armory with two sidearms, a P-90, a MP-5, and a gun that Daniel didn't recognize.

"What are you doing with those?" asked Daniel, suspicion and curiosity mingled seamlessly as he eyed his tallest teammate.

"Teal'c challenged me to a match—he hasn't used many of our weapons, but he insists they are simple enough," said Dixon, an evil grin on his face. "I also taught him how to bet."

"Actually, I wouldn't bet with those odds," offered Daniel.

"Is this the guy?" asked Dixon, pointing towards Dr. Jordan with a couple guns as his hands were occupied.

"If by 'the guy' you mean the father of the archaeological knowledge of this base, then yes, I am him," said Dr. Jordan, a paragon of good humor in face and tone. "You are?"

Dixon chuckled. "Dave Dixon, SG-1. You're Jackson's professor, eh...lots of intriguing stories there?"

"Possibly," said Jordan with what might have been a wink.

"I'd shake your hand, but well, you see," said Dixon, holding his weapons out.

"As do you," said Jordan, holding out hands that carried two luggage bags.

"See you later, then, doctors," said Dixon before walking past them to the elevator.

Daniel and Jordan continued down the hall. Jordan commented in a low tone, "I have to admit, Daniel, I did not expect that."

"Dixon's a character," acknowledged Daniel. "Not that that makes him unique here."

After Jordan dropped off his bags and acquired his keycard, Daniel decided to take him to level 16 and the labs. It was just about lunchtime and the scientists were mostly on break, giving Daniel an unhindered ability to show Dr. Jordan around. He was intrigued by the Celtic designs from Cimmeria, but not uncharacteristically leapt for a booklet on one of the desks.

"Daniel?" he asked, eyes lit up as he read its cover.

"Oh, yes!" said Daniel, suddenly remembering. "We can translate Linear A—mostly."

"It's alien?" asked Jordan, astonished but not incredulous.

"Yes, actually," said Daniel, hands growing more excited, walking over to look over Jordan's shoulder as he flipped through the pages of detailed drawings and notes. "This was one of our first missions, actually; Teal'c recognized it as Ancient Goa'uld, and we've been using his help to sort out the phonology and lexicon ever since."

"And you didn't tell me this?" said Jordan, wide-eyed and fascinated, looking as if he was soaking up every piece of information on the pages.

"Well, there is a pretty large amount of amazing things going on here," explained Daniel with a shrug.

"Yo, Danny boy!"

Daniel sighed and didn't turn around. "Jack..." The slight questioning tone of his voice was to indicate that a), Jack knew Daniel hated that name, and b), he shouldn't make an ass of himself in front of Jordan.

"Daniel," answered Jack, his own meaning pretty much harmless. "Ah yes, the father nerd," he continued, coming forward and offering his hand towards Dr. Jordan.

"Jack O'Neill?" asked Jordan in answer.

"Don't tell me I have a reputation," said Jack, leaning slightly back.

"An infamous one, perhaps," said Jordan with a smile and shaking Jack's hand. "You're interested in archaeology?"

"Oh no," Jack said, dragging the last syllable out for a couple seconds. "Just—came to see the guest, and to let you know where you'll find your uniform."

"I've got that covered, Jack," said Daniel.

"Really?" said Jack. He looked to Jordan, pointing a finger towards Daniel. "You may not have noticed, but that's an amazing feat."

"Did you hear about Dixon and Teal'c?" asked Daniel, as Jack seemed about to depart.

"On my way," said Jack. "Ten bucks says its a tie."

"I'm not betting," said Daniel.

Jack tossed him a wry grin before sliding out the door and down the hall.

"May I meet this Teal'c?" asked Jordan. "And the Dr. Mckay you mentioned."

"Um, sure," said Daniel. He wasn't sure how his professor would take these two personalities, but it was better to find out earlier than later. As they walked out to the elevator to finish the tour of SG-1, though, Daniel felt confident that things would go well. He had forgotten how much of his own open mind had been cultivated by Dr. Jordan; if only the man was not so tied up in the real world, he would have made a marvelous asset to the SGC.

ooooooo

In a small common area just off from the mess hall, the lights were mostly dimmed to a merely functional glow. In the brightest corner, Sam and Jolinar, and Martouf and Lantash, sat on two low chairs around what was the Tok'ra equivalent of a coffee table. On their way there, Sam had stopped by to see Sha're and to pick up her checker board. Sha're had not wanted to talk about what was on her mind right at the moment, so Sam promised to visit her again tomorrow.

The checkerboard was marked in soft cream and black, as were the tops of the small polished stones that were used for pieces. The first thing Sam had commented on was how nice the colors were compared to the traditional red and black, but soon her attention was taken up with explaining the rules to Jolinar. Her symbiote had seemed to pick up quickly, but after being soundly and quickly trounced by both Martouf and Lantash in two games, she suggested that Sam play them and she would observe and pick up strategy.

Sam gathered up the pieces and placed them on her side, noting Martouf's satisfaction at how many he had to flip over to hide their 'kinged' side. Selmak had apparently taught him very well. Sam took her first move confidently, and the next few moves followed quickly.

"Did you speak to Sha're?" asked Martouf, taking his next move.

"It was too late for her today," Sam answered, eyes flitting across the small board. "Shifu was fussy all day and needed to go to bed early, and she was worn out herself."

Martouf nodded, waiting for her move.

A few moments passed, and a few clicks of the pieces were all the sounds in the room other than the soft natural hum of the tunnels.

"Interesting," spoke up Lantash as Sam confiscated his foremost piece on the board. "You seem to have spotted my first strategy."

"I may be a scientist, but I'm also a soldier as well," said Sam with a smile.

"Yes, and that is interesting also—you do not think as a warrior," said Lantash. "What drew you to your military?"

Sam paused. "I appreciate the order and the rules," she said, "and taking part of an essential part of society. But I have to admit, there's something about the guns, too."

"Your weapons?"

"Yeah," said Sam, a bit of a grin gathering at the corner of her mouth. "We don't have energy technology, we developed projectile weapons propelled by gunpowder—a primitive chemical reaction. There is a sound and a jerk from the weapons when you fire." She shook her head, a little fondly. "It is an amazing feeling, to have that kind of raw physical power in your hand."

"Mm," said Lantash, looking down to make another move. "So you avert your desires for power and world domination into firing these primitive weapons."

Sam blinked. "What?"

"Successful every time," he commented to himself, eyes rising from the board to dance at her.

A tinge of pink rose into Sam's cheeks. "You're wicked, you know," she said. "And yes, I fall for it every time."

_*Don't feel bad, he spends hours practicing for such quips,* _commented Jolinar. Sam wasn't sure she believed all that, but it was nice to have Jolinar's opinion on the matter.

Lantash made a couple more comments before letting Martouf come forward. Sam suspected that he had been running over the next part of the strategy while Lantash and Sam had been bantering, but it was only fair as they were the new ones.

"Now, you have to clarify the rules for me again," said Martouf, making his move.

Sam glanced down to the board, waiting for his question. _*Oh no,* _said Jolinar, just before Martouf spoke.

"I may jump these both in one turn, correct?" he asked, pointing at two of her pieces and glancing up with a knowing look in his eyes.

"Crap..." said Sam, knowing that he knew the answer. "No?"

"A nice attempt," conceded Martouf, smiling broadly and jumping the pieces before setting them in the small pile he had collected.

"How did I miss that?" said Sam. "I've never had that happen, not in checkers."

"Part of strategy is to distract one's opponent, of course," Martouf shrugged, trying to pass of an innocent look despite his obvious self-satisfaction.

"You sound like Daniel," said Sam, reassessing her position on the board. "We used to play chess—it's like checkers, only with six kinds of pieces that move and attack in unique ways, so the variations of game play require complicated strategies. It takes years to master, even for the very intelligent and motivated. Daniel once told me that he learned very quickly that he was easily distracted, so he developed the skill of immersing himself in whatever he thought was important to the point of near-oblivion to anything else. Eventually with chess, he got to the point where he could be completely in his strategy and still be trying to throw me off like you do."

"Are you considered an expert at this chess?" asked Martouf curiously.

"Oh no, it's just a hobby," said Sam. She sighed, then made a move. Martouf's strategy had crippled her, and it would take a several turns to regain any advantage.

"In that case, then perhaps we should learn it," said Martouf. "But before we meet Daniel."

Sam couldn't hold back a smile at that. "Oh, I see, you don't want to be at a disadvantage, from me or from him."

"It is not our style," said Martouf dryly, but his humor clearly beneath the surface.

"I hope you'll get to meet him soon," said Sam. "I'm not sure how the meeting will go, though. I never was sure, but recently..." She trailed off, not able to explain all the secret reasons for her slow modification of her expectations.

"If the Council is actually meeting with you on the subject, then they have trust in your abilities to succeed," said Martouf. "And we see no reason to distrust them in this matter."

"Thanks," said Sam. _~But you don't know them,~ _she completed the sentence in her mind.

_*Yes, well, I do,* _said Jolinar.

Sam won the game, if barely, and then Jolinar was ready to play the next one. Lantash was victorious again but by a much closer margin, and before the night was out Sam and Jolinar were working with each other to win the next two games in a row. Martouf and Lantash conceded the match, and the evening was advanced enough for them all to retire to bed. Sam had quite a day for herself the next day anyway.


	29. Trouble

**Chapter 28 - Trouble**

SG-1 arranged themselves in the gateroom as they always did. Jack and Dixon took the front row, usually followed by Daniel and Mckay, but in this case Daniel and Jordan. His old professor looked distinctly out of place to Daniel without a comfy suit or pair of canvas overalls. Taking up the rear was Teal'c, and Mckay dropped back to join him. Daniel glanced back at the gate dialed, and found Teal'c's face unreadable as Mckay fussed with his gadgets. This planet looked very nearly bare but out of habit, or perhaps for the sake of showing off around the guest, Mckay was treating it as if anything might happen.

The gate dialed, and Dr. Jordan couldn't help but jump back. Daniel smiled, recognizing the usual emotions of newcomers to this event. Jack turned once to give a nod to Hammond, and then he and Dixon walked through the gate.

"I never asked—does it hurt?" asked Jordan as he and Daniel walked up the ramp.

"Not at all," Daniel said truthfully.

And before anything could happen, they were all through the gate. A few seconds passed, it shut down, and Jordan let out a long breath.

"Exciting," he commented.

The sun was up on this world, a bit of a jarring sight after knowing it had set on the other side of the wormhole. There was a perfectly oval clearing around the gate and the DHD, covered with short yellow-green grass accented by moss but no weeds or wildflowers. And beyond this oval of about 500 yards, all they could see around them were trees. Mostly evergreens, to be exact. There was a sparser area where there might have been a road once, Daniel guessed, but other than that—nothing.

"We left Earth, correct?" asked Jordan.

"Oh yes," said Jack, pointing up at the reddish moon that was quite visible above the tree-line. "Look Daniel—trees. We've never come across them before."

Daniel rolled his eyes to Jack. "Most planets we come across are fairly Earth-like," he explained to Jordan.

"Although, there may be something different about these," said Mckay, frowning and walking towards the nearest tree-line.

"Hmm?" Daniel asked, looking around. Apart from the perfectly circular edge of the clearing, while beyond the trees were closely spaced, it didn't look too alien. But he followed Mckay to look closer. The structure of trunk and large branches were mostly similar to pines, certainly, but Mckay was right in that there was something off about the thinner limbs and needles.

"What, the _trees_ are interesting this time?" asked Dixon, eyebrows incredulously raised.

"If someone's up there playing tricks on me..." muttered Jack, eyes suspiciously skyward.

"Look, look!" said Mckay as they came close to one of the trees. It was darker near the edge, and the branches swayed over their heads.

Daniel had caught it at the same time, stepping into the shade of the canopy. "That's amazing, look at that branch end!"

"It looks like a taco," said Jack, looking over their shoulders.

Daniel and Mckay both turned to give him the eye.

"Are you saying it doesn't?" demanded Jack.

"The needles on this aren't regular pine variety," said Mckay, leaning in to look at the nearest branch. "They don't look soft."

"I'm not getting a taco vibe, sir," said Dixon. "It looks more like a...what do you call those plants that eat meat?"

"Venus Fly Trap," commented Teal'c absently, as he looked up into the sky.

Jordan, after a moment of standing around in stunned appreciation, came up to stand near Daniel's side.

"Jackson, smell this," said Mckay, oblivious to the others as his face was a couple inches from the oddly shaped pine branch. "It's amazing. I don't think these are pine needles."

"Why is there no wildlife on this planet?" asked Teal'c.

Daniel glanced quickly to him, and frowned. He was right—no bird calls or animal dung was anywhere. Looking back to Mckay, he saw the fascinated look in his eyes, just a little too euphoric for the usual caution Mckay showed. "Rodney, I don't think you should touch that."

"These can't be real pine needles," Mckay said, as if unhearing, his finger reaching for the now-dangerous looking branch.

"Rodney!"

"Mckay!"

"God! Oh god! It bit me!"

Gone was Mckay's almost trance-like nature as the tree branch had wrapped around his hand, sending the too-aptly named needles piercing deep into his hand. The rest of the team jumped back sharply as Mckay crumpled in a lump, gasping in acute pain, but the trees didn't move.

"Oh god, they're alive and they've got me!" said Mckay through growing hyperventilation.

Jack's gun immediately rose. "Daniel, stand back."

"Wait—wait, Jack!" Daniel protested quickly, putting up his hand. "We can't just go shooting at it. What if it bites down harder?"

"Could it actually be alive?" asked Jordan, looking to Daniel with concern.

"Well, we haven't come across anything like that, but I wouldn't rule it out completely," said Daniel, eyes darting between Mckay and his team.

"I did not want to be the guinea pig for a new kind of life!" snapped Mckay breathily, but his moment of irritation gave way to a fearful sob of pain.

"Sir, we need to bring in a doctor," said Dixon, concern open on his face.

"Contact Hammond," said Jack with a nod of agreement. Dixon jogged off to the DHD and Daniel drew near to Mckay. "Hey! Daniel! Vicious tree?" Jack exclaimed.

"What, Jack? It didn't attack us when we were all standing there," said Daniel, crouching beside Mckay. The other scientist was pale and shaky, sweat gathering on his broad brow as he leaned up against the tree trunk. "Maybe it's not fully capable of movement. Teal'c?" Daniel beckoned the Jaffa to come closer.

Teal'c hesitated a moment, eyeing the swaying trees around them with strong suspicion. But only a moment later, he lay down his staff weapon and came over to join Daniel. Carefully, avoiding touching the actual tree, Teal'c helped Daniel lie Mckay down on the ground. The attacking branch had been low on the tree and thin enough that this was possible, even if Mckay's arm was still suspended.

"Rodney, are you still conscious?" asked Daniel.

Mckay nodded, eyes squeezed shut.

"Okay, we've sent for Doctor Frasier," assured Daniel.

Jack, gun still ready but lowered, had apparently agreed with Daniel that the trees couldn't reach out and attack them, and came up behind Daniel's shoulder. "Daniel, how can you possibly explain to me why there's a planet full of nothing but killer trees with a _Stargate_?"

"Do all these worlds use their Stargates?" asked Jordan.

 Daniel turned from Mckay, remembering their guest on this 'quiet mission'. "No, actually," he said.

Jordan had stepped back with the rest when Mckay had been attacked, but now he stepped forward again, looking more determined than frightened. "Maybe there were people here before there were trees," he suggested after a deep breath.

Daniel caught his words and started tapping the air with a finger, following that train of thought.

"There's nothing around, I looked," came Mckay's weary voice.

"Don't worry, Rodney, we're working on this," said Daniel, relieved to see that Mckay hadn't succumbed to shock or some kind of poison yet.

"Oh, that gives me such hope," deadpanned Mckay.

"Right, just keep up that attitude and you'll be just fine," commented Jack encouragingly.

"I will look around for any clues," said Jordan, putting a hand on Daniel's shoulder.

"This has already gotten dangerous, Dr.," said Jack. "You should head back through the gate."

"You need trained eyes looking around, trust me, Colonel," said Jordan firmly.

"Daniel?" Jack looked to him.

Daniel nodded. Jack tipped his head, but Jordan didn't need his permission to start scanning the perimeter of the meadow. Beyond him, Dixon stood by the active gate. Daniel knew that Frasier couldn't be here in less than five minutes, and she would need every bit of knowledge he could give her. He turned back to Mckay.

Gently, he rotated Mckay's arm as much as was possible. His teammate didn't make a sound, but looking at the wound Daniel wasn't surprised. The "Venus Fly Trap" had bitten neatly around Mckay's hand and wrist, digging deep into it with what looked more like probes than teeth. Judging by the length of the ones out of reach of his hand, Daniel grimaced to note that it looked like some of the needles could have driven all the way to the bone if not beyond.

More disturbing, though, was the shiny quality of the needles' texture. Not merely polished smooth, they seemed to be glistening with some kind of liquid. His elementary biology knowledge had Daniel expecting some kind of drug—but what for, he didn't want to guess aloud. Mckay already looked out of it, and more hyperventilation wouldn't do anything.

"Rodney, are you still awake?" asked Daniel. Mckay's eyes were limply shut, his mouth drooping a little.

"No, I'm unconscious, you moron," Mckay answered, his voice too weak to have bite.

"Just checking," said Daniel, concerned at how out of things Mckay was getting. Other traumas had made him over-stimulated and hyperactive, but even with the extreme shock of having your hand so violently bitten, Daniel wasn't sure this was a natural reaction.

He heard the gate activate again, and looked up just in time to see Janet Frasier and two medical officers come through the gate. Just in time.

"Okay, what do we have here?" the small doctor asked as she made her way swiftly across the short field.

"A tree bit him," said Jack.

"What?" asked Janet, confused. Then she saw Mckay. "Oh my god, that's not good."

Teal'c, who had been supporting Mckay to keep any strain off his arm, moved himself out of the way so that Janet could examine him.

"Daniel, do we know anything?" she asked, looking to him.

Daniel ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his forehead. "Well, it didn't attack until it was touched, but there was an intoxicating smell—my main thought was that it was some kind of carnivorous plant like a Venus Fly Trap."

"While looking just like a pine tree—that's strange," said Janet. "Well, if it is like that, it can't digest him very quickly. It will just hold him until he wears out, possibly inject him with a kind of sedative and/or digestive fluid to break down his tissues."

"There is a kind of liquid on the spines," commented Daniel.

"Okay," said Janet, kneeling next to Mckay. "Delores? The bag please, and then can you go back to the base and get me the Poisons and Drugs kit? John, this man won't be able to be moved for a while, so you might as well report to the General."

While Janet's two assistants made their way back to the gate, she put on gloves and a mask. Mckay seemed out of things, not responding even when she probed at the outer edge of the bite. Granted, she didn't probe very deep.

"Doctor Mckay?" she asked.

"Am I dead yet?" he murmured.

"Not in the least. I need you to tell me how you feel?"

"Can't," murmured Mckay, shaking his head.

"You can't tell me?" asked Janet.

"I can't feel my hand anymore," said Mckay.

"That's not surprising, there looks like there could be a lot of nerve damage," said Janet. "What about the rest of you?"

"I think I'm in pain, but I don't know for sure," said Mckay, a couple of the words slurring a little. "I feel sick."

"Teal'c, you need to make sure he's propped up in case he vomits," said Janet. Teal'c nodded.

"What do you need me to do?" asked Daniel.

Janet's brow creased. "I'm going to work on the medical side of all this, but I need you to get me something about this tree, if you can."

Daniel nodded and stood up. "Jack, I might need your help."

"Daniel, what do you think you're going to find?" said Jack in a voice just above a whisper.

"Well, we can see if these trees are sentient or not."

"They're trees!" said Jack, shaking his hand.

"And do you want to get them mad by insulting their intelligence?" asked Daniel with one eyebrow raised. "Alien world, Jack, remember?"

"Don't get snotty," warned Jack, but got the point.

Daniel didn't know where he was going to start, but he knew he had to. Of all of the missions they'd been on, this was one where they most desperately needed all the scientists they had. With Mckay out of commission, it was up to Daniel and Janet—and Jordan. Maybe it wasn't so bad after all that he'd brought him on the mission.

ooooooo

Sam and Jolinar made their way down to the infirmary early the next morning, but were stopped by Dorin.

"You are here to see Sha're?" the Tok'ra doctor asked.

"Of course," said Sam.

Dorin sighed. "She did not have a good night last night. Shifu was screaming most of it, and there seems to be—well, I will let her tell you herself. But be prepared, she may not be in a congenial mood."

"Thanks," said Sam, nodding. As they neared Sha're's chamber, things became more obvious. Shifu's cries carried a good way despite the walls, and they were the shaky, hiccouphy ones of a child who had been crying for a good time now.

Turning the corner, they saw Sha're pacing her chamber, bouncing Shifu in her arms. Her jaw was set, eyes tightly shut, and there were circles dark beneath them. Her hair and clothes looked disheveled, as if she had slept in them, if she had slept at all last night.

"Sha're?" called Sam, when they were close enough to be heard above the baby's screams.

She jumped a little. "Sa'm," she said, wearily. "Jolinar. Forgive me, I do not want company, but I need you."

"What is it?" asked Sam.

Sha're closed her eyes again, taking a breath.

"Here, let me take him," said Sam, concerned for the exhausted woman.

"It will not help," said Sha're, but she willingly let Sam take the bundled infant.

Sure enough, Shifu didn't even pause for a new breath. Sam was not comfortable with babies, but in this case it didn't matter what she did. "What did you need to tell me?" she asked over Shifu's continuing protests.

Sha're sat wearily down on a chair, and Sam took the one opposite. "It is this child, of course," she said. "He was well for the first two weeks, but in the past few days he has suddenly started crying."

"Isn't that what newborns do when they have colic?" asked Sam.

"So I was advised at first by Larys and Dorin," said Sha're. She sighed. "But Anise's concerns came to me, and so I had them watch him closely one night. Now they are not so sure. I never thought he cried out of discomfort, but more out of fear, and according to their readings his mind is reacting as if to nightmares."

Sam frowned, glancing down at the baby who still cried in her arms. Now that she listened, she understood what Sha're meant—his cries were almost frantic.

_*I agree with her concerns,* _said Jolinar.

"So you think it has something to do with his being harcesis, having all those memories?" asked Sam.

"I am worried," admitted Sha're. "Sa'm, I do not know what I should think; he is still my poor child, but what if there is something more?"

"Have you talked to the doctors about this?" asked Sam.

"Only briefly," said Sha're. "But they said that there has not been another time like this."

Jolinar came forward. "It is true, Sha're. We have next to no information about harcesies. I do not know what we can do."

"Dorin mentioned that they might be able to repress his Goa'uld memories," said Sha're. "But I am afraid that the process might hurt him."

"It is possible that some other memories might be lost as well," admitted Jolinar. "But think, Sha're—if your theories are true, what child would he be?"

"Not mine, I am afraid," said Sha're, eyes welling up. "Jolinar, I was so certain that he was my child to claim, flesh of my own flesh. But now my heart is full of fear that the Goa'uld will yet steal him away from me."

Jolinar had realized that she was now holding the crying, flailing infant, and Sam felt her extreme discomfort, but she pushed past it and looked Sha're in the eyes. "Sha're, if there is anything that can be done, it must be done soon. For both your sakes." Nothing more to say, she quickly granted control back to Sam.

"She's right, Sha're," said Sam. "Look at yourself; you can't live like this."

Sha're exhaled, wiping her eyes. "Here, let me take him back," she said, reaching for Shifu. When he was bouncing again in her arms, whimpering as he regained strength to scream, she looked up to Sam. "Thank you, both of you. My mind is so weary, I did not know whether to trust it."

"You should tell all this to Dorin or Larys," said Sam. "I am sure they share your concerns and desires for Shifu's safety."

Sha're nodded. "Yes, I will do that."

Sam tried an encouraging smile. "Will you be able to sleep?"

"He quiets down sometimes, for a few hours," said Sha're. "I will survive."

Sam rose. "I would stay and help you, but the Council needs me."

"Of course, I would not wish to burden you with this," said Sha're. "I only wanted your advice.

"Don't forget to ask for help from others if you need it," advised Sam. "Keep well, Sha're."

"I will," said Sha're with a weak smile of her own.

 Sam and Jolinar left, turning at the last moment to cast a worried look that Sha're missed as she began pacing again.

_*This would have had to be resolved at some point, but I did not think it would be so soon,* _commented Jolinar. _*Anise was right, even if intrusive.*_

_~Is it possible, what Dorin suggested?~ _asked Sam.

_*It is not well tested, but it is plausible,* _said Jolinar. _*At this point, however, there is nothing else to do if we wish to give Sha're her child back.*_

_~Hopefully he hasn't been taken away yet,~ _said Sam with a shiver.

_*And for all our sakes, let us hope that this does not affect our upcoming mission,* _said Jolinar. _*And speaking of that...we should meet with the Council now.*_

ooooooo

"Daniel, come look at this!" called Jordan from a few feet away.

With the help of Jack, Daniel had been trying to figure out how these trees worked. As far as he could tell with his own senses, they only reacted automatically like any other plant, and even Mckay's devices didn't pick up anything abnormal about them. It was just some strange evolution of plant life. But it was confusing to Daniel, and he kept trying.

"What is it?" asked Daniel, hurrying over and hoping there was something more intriguing.

"Look at that," said Jordan, pointing between the first couple trees on the edge.

Daniel peered in, looking down where Jordan's finger had pointed. "Is that—that's a paved stone, isn't it?"

"Unless stones grow flat and well-placed on other worlds," said Jordan, not entirely facetious.

"Okay, so there was someone else here," said Daniel, adjusting his glasses to rub the corners of his eyes. "That's something."

"Jackson, you're probably only going to find that these people were eaten by trees," said Dixon, who had taken Jack's place after the latter had gotten frustrated and took up a position with Teal'c by Janet and Mckay.

"Maybe there's some evidence that could give us a clue, though," said Daniel.

"The question is, how do we get in there?" asked Jordan.

"Well, I think I've solved that," said Daniel. "They only attack if the inside of their..."

"Tacos?" Dixon suggested reluctantly.

"Jaws," amended Daniel. Dixon nodded with approval. "Only if the inside of their jaws are touched.

"So we move the branches aside and we can safely get past," said Jordan. Daniel was only a little surprised at how quick and collected he had been on this mission; anyone who could hold their own with several classes of college students a day could handle stress, but it was the inner character that had pushed Daniel to offer him this that let him absorb the newness of alien things.

"Can we use your gun, Dixon?" asked Daniel.

Dixon sighed. "Yeah, sure."

"I'll use yours to keep this outer part open, Daniel," said Jordan. He smiled wryly. "I'm not so adventurous as to willingly venture in _there_."

"It looks pretty thin, so that's a benefit," said Daniel, handing his only weapon to Jordan.

Jordan held the first branch back and Daniel stepped in between the two trunks. He held his breath, but nothing happened beyond his expectations. Dixon followed, and Jordan let the branch slowly fall back into place. The space was small, but there was breathing room. Dixon shuffled forward and used his gun to push aside the next branch, ducking beneath a particularly high one. Daniel followed, only having to stoop slightly, and squeezed past another one. Dixon followed until the next one crossed the open space, then he stepped in front to push it carefully aside.

"This is worse than electric wire," he muttered.

Daniel stooped under the last branch to reach where the paved stones were. Weeds had sprouted up between them, knocking some out of the way with the passage of time. They had once been carved, though, and Daniel was intrigued to see that the design was certainly not Goa'uld in origin.

The next hundred feet or so was easy, as no trees had encroached on the path, and within ten minutes they had gone about 500 feet.

"Colonel," called Dixon through his radio, pausing to give an update. "Jackson and I made it through the trees—Jackson's found some kind of civilization."

"_Daniel, you do realize we're just here to rescue Mckay?"_

"Yes, Jack, I do," said Daniel. "I'm trying to do that just now. I'm hoping the people who used to live here knew about the trees."

"It's not a bad theory, sir," said Dixon.

"_As soon as Frasier's got a way out, though, we're leaving," _said Jack.

"Got it," said Dixon.

"Has she got anything yet?" asked Daniel.

"_She thinks the spines put some kind of...minor acid into Mckay to start breaking him all down," _said Jack, sounding disgusted and worried all at once. _"But she has no idea what to do about it."_

Daniel nodded, nothing else to say. Earlier, at Jack's request, they had tried to close one of the jaws of another tree and cut the branch loose to see what happened. Closing the jaw had made the needles drip some fluid, but cutting the branch had made the jaws close even tighter and shoot the fluid out at greater force. Janet was firm—there was no moving Mckay unless they could get the jaws off without making him lose his hand.

Looking ahead, Daniel saw something stone other than the path, and hurried along towards it. As far as he could tell, this had once been a circular monument of sorts, but the trees had grown in and around it. Using Dixon, though, Daniel began to follow the perimeter.

"This is amazing architecture," Daniel commented. "This is stone, but the cut marks are almost invisible, as if they found these formed instead of carving them. Definitely an advanced technology."

Dixon, who was paying more attention to the branches than the stone, just said briskly, "Uh-huh."

About halfway around the circle, though, Daniel saw a larger tower like structure. No trees were in the couple feet surrounding it, and he walked towards it. It was only a little taller than he was, and though the sides were covered in markings, there seemed to be a kind of podium facing the center of the circle. Standing in front of it, Daniel brushed off the old leaves and needles and was surprised to see a kind of screen. Or at least, it looked like a screen. Like the sides, it was carved with designs.

"What is it?" asked Dixon, still standing on the path.

"I've seen these symbols before, I think," said Daniel. He ran his fingers over the carved stone, eyes scanning, mind trying to remember. "Oh!"

"You do know them?" asked Dixon.

"Dixon, did you ever hear about Heliopolis?" asked Daniel, getting excited. "The four Great Races?"

"Yeah," said Dixon.

"This is one of those languages!" said Daniel, hope driving away the pent-up frustrations of trying to figure it all out. "There's a short inscription in the Norse of Thor's people and in this other language—I have the cypher back in my bag, but I think I can make out a few words here and now." He paused, finger resting just below a character. "Oh, no."

"What?" asked Dixon.

"The good news is, I think this new language might be related to Latin," said Daniel, face darkening. "The bad news is, the words I can make out right now in Norse refer to attack, day, and death. I think this is saying that victims died one day after being attacked."

"Shit," said Dixon. "Now what?'

"Mckay's only got 24 hours, and I can't work through all of this in that time," said Daniel, waving his hand over the small tower. "But I think that after this introduction, there's more, important information. I just need someone who can help translate."

"You said Latin, though," said Dixon.

"I said it's like that," corrected Daniel. He looked up at Dixon, and then his eyes lit up. "You're right, though—Dr. Jordan could do as well as anyone."

"Okay, so I go get your bag and bring Jordan through to here, right?" said Dixon.

"Yes, yes," said Daniel. "I'll work on this new script as much of this as I can until you get there."

"And I'll tell the Colonel and Frasier that we might have something to go on," said Dixon, already on his way back. "Good luck, Jackson!"

Daniel set to work on the stone tablet before him, noticing with relief that none of the characters seemed to be worn away. Whatever Great Race had settled this planet, they had certainly known how to make things that would last. Now if only they had gotten enough information down to help Mckay...

—

**Author's Note**: While we didn't see all of SG-1's missions in the series, not all the "extra" missions in this story are ones that I think happened in canon. Given the slightly different timeline and make-up of the team, assignments would be a little different sometimes.


	30. Expectations

**Chapter 29 - Expectations**

Meeting with the Tok'ra Council was always an interesting experience for Sam. They did not assemble in an actual chamber, and rarely all at once, so the briefings could take place anywhere. This time, though, they had taken the time for most of them to assemble and in a relatively private chamber. They had also provided a seat for Sam and Jolinar, instead of how things usually went with them standing in front of the seated Council.

"Jolinar," began Garshaw as they all took their places. "This meeting is mostly concerning the Tauri, so we will be speaking firstly to your host."

"As I assumed," said Jolinar, bowing her head and letting Sam come forward.

Garshaw nodded to her fellow Council-members. As always, they were well prepared.

Ren'al spoke first. "Samantha, your time among us was intended to be temporary until a new host for Jolinar could be found and you could return to your people. However, when that became prolonged, we allowed that you meet with delegates of your world to arrange some way for you to contact them once your time among us was over. As it is now, though, you seem to wish for something more than this—an alliance, I believe, were your words. We agreed at the time, but as your mission approaches we shall need a definition of what shall happen during it."

"Understood," said Sam, nodding.

"What would be the purpose of forming an alliance instead of a treaty with your world?" asked Thoran.

"Of all the races out there, we are the only one that we know of that is actively seeking the downfall of the Goa'uld," said Sam. She had prepared too. "If we were working together, surely we could accomplish more than each on our own."

"But have you not seen that our tactics are not yours?" continued Thoran. "If you could convince your people to work as we do, following careful procedures to make sure that the balance is not tipped too soon, I would understand your wish for an alliance."

"Is it the methods that matter?" asked Sam, not surprised yet by anything. Jolinar and her own experiences had made her expect these kinds of arguments. "If we were allies, the information we could share would be enough to justify it, wouldn't it?"

"We are not hastening to share all our knowledge when it may be discovered by the Goa'uld," said Ren'al. "Unless it is very basic information, the alliance would not give you much. And what would you give us in return?"

"My world is in contact with many others now, and we are continually searching out new technologies and information," said Sam.

"Such as?" asked Ren'al, eyes opening wider in questioning.

"We have found records of an ancient alliance of four Great Races once united against the Goa'uld," said Sam. "And the nanite technology of a Goa'uld experiment, as well as Asgard technology that detects and destroys Goa'uld."

"And have you mastered these technologies and information?" asked Ren'al.

"Not that I know of," said Sam slowly. "But in your hands, would the process not be faster?"

"And when this information is transferred from world to world, what is to keep us from being discovered by the Goa'uld if your world is infiltrated?" asked Garshaw, her hands clasped together and resting on the table before her.

"You could decide the security parameters yourself," said Sam. "I know that the government would be willing to jump through many hoops to achieve this."

"Do you?" asked Garshaw. "From your earlier reports, it seemed that your world still thought of us as Goa'uld."

"They don't know any better yet," said Sam. "I'm sure I can convince them eventually. But it is what happens then that we are here to talk about."

"Not necessarily," said Garshaw. "You, Samantha, were given a rare opportunity to learn about us. How long will the rest of your people take to come to a similar understanding? Will it ever come? Their prejudice seems great."

Sam bit her lip. "It will take time," she admitted. "But think of the position they are in. It was only two years ago that we discovered alien life existed; the people who would be making these decisions are those whose minds have already been opened wider than they ever thought. One step further is not so far."

"That is possibly true," conceded Garshaw with a slight nod. "Samantha, it is not that we do not see any benefit in joining with your world, but the risks for us are many and the benefits seem very small. It would be more in our style to have a kind of treaty, but where only urgent information was shared."

"And what of your greatest need, for hosts?" asked Sam.

"You are certain that your people can overcome their prejudice so completely?" asked Garshaw doubtfully.

"Eventually, yes," said Sam. "But they will need some kind of proof, which I believe that both myself and Sha're will provide the basis for. After that, a full disclosure of all you are willing to part with should gain their trust fully. Then, it is just a matter of exposure."

The Council-members looked to each other, and then Per'sus spoke.

"It would be foolish of us not to do what we can to achieve these benefits, for they are a very real possibility," he said. "As long as we do not compromise ourselves in the process."

The others nodded, although a younger council-member on the end seemed reluctant.

_*Delek,* _murmured Jolinar as she caught Sam's observation.

"Then so shall it be," said Garshaw, nodding to Sam. "We shall compose the details of this treaty later, but first we must, as Per'sus said, ensure that we are not compromised by it. How shall this meeting be set up? And Jolinar, here your input will be most appreciated, as you are the only one other than Samantha to have observed the tactics of the Tauri."

ooooooo

Daniel was relieved to finally get his second wind, just as the sun on this world dipped towards setting. As far as his body and mind were concerned, it was well past midnight and he hadn't brought any coffee. He had, however, discovered that frequent radio calls from Jack and Janet about Mckay's condition were as good as any shot of espresso.

He was currently kneeling by the tower, jotting down in his own shorthand the words as he translated them. Jordan was standing around the other side, doing the same even as he paused to bounce an idea of Daniel. This would have been an amazing opportunity, translating this alien message in a language they had barely discovered, but all the two men could feel was stress. Janet had radioed them twice asking for any information they found, and Jack had been calling every twenty minutes or so to give reports. It didn't look good.

As far as Janet could tell, Mckay's body was being overrun by the toxins from the Venus Fly Tree (as Jack so eloquently put it). It was a relatively small amount, but according to Janet it seemed to be extremely potent. And not only was it beginning to break down Mckay's hand for the tree to digest, the toxin waiting in the rest of his body seemed to be acting as a marker for further food once the tree got that far. Mckay's body was reacting as if it was a disease, sending him into a high fever that only aggravated the toxin's symptoms of disorientation and dulled sensory response.

"_I guess it makes sense now why T can't find any other signs of animal life on this planet," _commented Jack at the end of his message, his voice too weary and worried to hold any irony.

"How do you suppose the trees survived?" asked Daniel.

"I noticed that earlier, actually," said Jordan, turning his head to speak into Daniel's radio. "There are no reproductive systems visible on these trees, and their root systems and branching method of growth seem to indicate the usual tree growth. Perhaps they need meat to reproduce?"

"_Eww,"_ said Jack shortly. _"Let's not dwell."_

"Well, you'll be glad to hear that our supposition was partly correct," continued Daniel. "This text is detailing the former occupation of this planet."

"_But let me guess, you haven't gotten to the good part," _said Jack.

"Not yet," said Daniel.

"_O'Neill out, then,"_ finished Jack.

Daniel continued, working his way clockwise around the pillar. The language was remarkably like a form of Roman Latin, and it was inscribed in a similar fashion. Not only that, but the way of detailing history was eerily similar to the ancient Greek and Roman historians like Thucydides, all fact and no mythology. It was something rare in the galaxy, Daniel had found.

According to the text they had translated so far (some of the beginning and some half-way through), there had been a settlement of an advanced race on this planet, not because they needed a new world but because they wanted to study the plant life here. There was a word that Jordan and Daniel had tag-teamed on for fifteen minutes before deciding that the closest translation might be "terraform", and that was almost enough to distract Daniel. As it was, he concentrated on the explicit meaning, not the interesting implications.

Jordan had dealt with the introduction, relating to Daniel this basic history and the phrase "all has not been a complete disaster". That was hopeful, but Jordan's part of the tower went on to describe scientific experiments with the atmosphere.

"Oh, this might be something," said Daniel.

"Yes?" asked Jordan, pausing to look down.

"Well, after they had to leave the planet—why, I haven't figured out yet—they left this behind in case it was feasible to return," said Daniel, pausing to let his mind catch up with what he had translated so far.

"Not as a warning?" asked Jordan.

"No, but it looks like they thought of that. Just at a glance, the next section has many of the signs for numerals," said Daniel. "Times? Formulas? We can only hope it's not dates."

"Hmm," Jordan agreed, going back to his work. After a moment's pause he said, "Daniel, are your allergies affecting you at the moment?"

"No," said Daniel. "I take regular antihistamines on missions. Why?"

"It's that godawful smell," said Jordan. "From the trees—and if I wasn't entirely terrified of them it would be effectively alluring."

Daniel sniffed. "I suppose I blocked it out."

"Wait—Daniel? Did your part say anything about experiments?"

"About them leaving the planet?" asked Daniel. "Um, I don't think so. Something about failure, but nothing specific. Yours mentioned disaster, correct?"

"It did, and now it just made a mention of—well, I think the word is "manipulation" but I can't translate the two words around it."

"Manipulation, science, disaster," muttered Daniel. "Genetic?"

Jordan looked down at Daniel, the filtered light carving deep shadows in his face. "Oh dear, Daniel."

"It's genetic, isn't it?" sighed Daniel, Jordan's words confirming his unconscious suspicions.

"That would fit quite accurately," said Jordan.

"So this race might have been messing with the wildlife and threw things out of balance," said Daniel. He sighed, dropping his head to his chest. "That's—great."

"Just be grateful they seemed to have time to learn from their mistake," said Jordan.

"Yes, but we may not," said Daniel, looking up with renewed focus. "I don't think you'll find anything helpful that far up—try on the other side, about the same level I'm at."

"Right," said Jordan, squatting down. "Ooh, knees, forgot about them." He sat down completely with a slight thump, crossed his legs, and lay his notepad in his lap.

Daniel smiled a tight smile. This was what the mission should have been about—him and his teacher and mentor, experiencing a new world together with banter and intellectual stimulation. Not fighting to save a life, that was never the plan. Jordan had been caught in the SG-1 curse, apparently.

ooooooo

"We will have to be unarmed, of course," commented Jolinar, as she and the Council ironed out the details of the treaty mission.

"Completely?" asked Delek suspiciously. "And risk capture?"

"They would be cautious of any such tactic—no weapons whatsoever, if we are to look benign," said Jolinar.

"Fighting is not our way either," said Ren'al, looking down the row towards Delek. He sat back, a slight noise coming from behind his firmly shut lips.

"I assume the moon has a ring platform," continued Jolinar.

"Indeed, not very far from the Chappa'ai," said Garshaw with a nod. "We had the area scouted."

"Then if there is any need, a tel'tak in orbit will be as quick a retreat as any," said Jolinar. "If this meeting was at all leaked, also, there would be room for all to go in safety."

"The most recent ship to become available was kept aside just for this purpose," said Thoran.

"Good, good," said Jolinar, then looked to Garshaw. "If the Tauri agree to this treaty, should a signal be sent to bring you to attend the signing of it?"

"Is that necessary?" the High Councilor asked.

"These Tauri seem very intent on maintaining high levels of protocol," said Jolinar. "Your authority as our leader would do much to convince and persuade them."

Garshaw frowned. "Jolinar, what is your level of trust with these people? You seem wary of their intelligence to understand the situation."

"Not so," said Jolinar. "But I do not underestimate the caution of those once burned, however open they may be."

Sam, who had only spoken up about tactics briefly, saw what Jolinar was avoiding discussing and asked for control again. After she opened her eyes, she turned to Garshaw. "There is one thing that Jolinar has not said."

"Yes?" asked Garshaw, eyebrows rising.

Sam took a deep breath. "It is possible that a misunderstanding might confound our first attempt. What happened on Abydos has likely reached them, and without understanding the circumstances, the coincidence of our arrival and the attack on a previously peaceful planet may look like malice. It—it wouldn't seem unlikely."

"You do not trust them to come in peace?" asked Garshaw, not committing to a tone.

Sam slightly chewed the inside of her lip. "No, I trust that they won't try to attack unprovoked. But they may bring weapons, and they may be on edge to use them."

"That is of little issue as far as we are concerned," spoke up Delek again. "Take a shield, and it will not matter, as long as you stand near the rings."

"Remember, Delek, that Sha're will be with us," said Jolinar. "It will be difficult to both remain under the protection of the shield without inviting suspicion."

_~They wouldn't shoot her,~ _said Sam. _~Not Sha're. Remember that her situation is different than mine.~_

"I stand corrected on one point," spoke up Jolinar. "It will not be necessary to shield her, or so my host believes."

"I am glad to hear it, considering all I have been told about these Tauri," said Garshaw. "And if that is so, then I see no reason for the Council not to approve the safety measures of this mission. As soon as you wish to depart, the tel'tak will be waiting."

Jolinar bowed slightly to the Council, and they all rose.

_~That went much more quickly than I expected,~ _commented Sam.

_*For me as well,* _commented Jolinar as she left the chamber. _*I am not sure what it indicates. That they are not fully committed to this mission, or that something else occupies their thoughts.*_

_~Or maybe they just don't think it's that complicated,~ _said Sam. _~It's not sneaking into a Goa'uld base, after all.~_

_*True, true,* _said Jolinar. _*Still, it is plain that some of the Council only granted their consent so as not to disturb the flow of proceedings.*_

_~To be honest, I think I know where they're coming from,~ _said Sam. _~I never really thought about how Earth would look to an advanced race, but especially for you...we look like a danger to your entire way of life.~_

_*You may understand them, but that does not make them entirely accurate,* _said Jolinar. _*The treaty has firm benefits, not least of which the possibility that we may save people of your world and at the same time save our own. Even if it is a rare occurrence, it would save months and even years of effort on our part.*_

_~Said like someone who carefully measures time,~ _said Sam.

ooooooo

"_Daniel..."_

"Just a second, Jack, really!" said Daniel, barely waiting until after he pressed the button on the radio to talk.

"_You have something, then," _Jack's tone was cautiously hopeful.

"The something," said Daniel. "Send Dixon—we need to get this out of here and to someone who will understand chemistry."

"_On his way," _said Jack.

"I have the dosage on this side," called Jordan from across the tower.

"And I have the formulas," said Daniel. He marked the last character on his notepad and stood up, brushing the underbrush from the seat of his pants.

"Got it!" finished Jordan. Daniel put a hand down to help him up. "We can do this, right?" he asked.

"I don't know, I'm not a chemist," said Daniel. "But Dr. Frasier...she's had to do things like this before. I trust her."

"Here, let's get as far as we can before your Dixon comes through," said Jordan, pushing along the part of the path that was somewhat open.

A few minutes later, and Dixon came almost charging though. "It gets easier your fifth time," he commented. "Come on guys; Mckay's losing it."

Dixon was right; they sped through the forest, Dixon dodging and pushing the dangerous branches out of the way with almost reckless abandon, Jordan and Daniel following with their notebooks close to their chests. Now that he was moving, Daniel felt the sickly sweet smell of the trees overwhelm his senses, and he almost felt ready to sneeze. Not because he was allergic, but because that scent didn't belong in his nostrils. No wonder Mckay had been overcome.

They escaped the trees at last, taking a deep breath of the open, unscented air. The sun was at its hottest, the brown-yellow grass crisp and paired with the spongey moss under their feet. It looked eerie in light of what they had learned, an experiment with nature that took over its newly-formed world. Daniel had a few seconds for his mind to dart off on that train of thought, and then was back where it all had started.

Mckay was losing it—Daniel felt a sick feeling in his stomach at the sight of the scientist. His skin was pale and damp, all the blood in his body seemingly centered on his face, and even his twitching seemed lethargic. Janet had him hooked up to one of the small boxes she had brought through the gate, and the readings were worse than erratic. She quickly rose to her feet as Daniel and Jordan came up.

Jordan, a little out of breath, handed his notebook to Daniel and leaned forward, resting his hands on his thighs and breathing deeply.

"Please tell me you have something simple," Janet said quietly.

"You'll have to tell me, I'm not exactly sure," said Daniel honestly. "This is what we have." He opened the notebooks and held them down where Janet could see.

"How confident are you with these translations?" Janet asked.

"Well, they've mostly been corroborated between us, but this is a brand new language," said Daniel.

Janet took a deep breath and took one notebook from Daniel. "Okay, let's sit down and look over this. I'm afraid that these names are not going to be medical terms I'm familiar with, but we'll see."

Daniel sat down next to her, holding the other notebook. Jack and Dixon stood, for the first time looking as if their guns had no use here, while Teal'c took up vigil by Mckay and the beeping machine. Jordan, having caught his breath, stood behind them.

"I don't think they're the names of chemicals or drugs," commented Daniel, as Janet's eyebrows rose further as she read. "They look more like the names of plants, maybe even descriptions."

"I can see that," said Janet, nodding. "But," she continued, shaking her head a little, "Teal'c reported to me that he has found nothing but trees in this area other than the grass."

"Perhaps these plants no longer exist?" asked Daniel.

Janet nodded shortly. "There is nothing medical about this list that I can see—until you find the plants, I can't tell you anything you couldn't already figure out."

"Right," said Daniel.

"So, what are we looking for?" asked Jack as Daniel helped Janet up and back to Mckay's side.

"Well, now that I have a better idea of context...it looks like this race used a similar way to ours of categorizing plants using descriptors of their qualities, including some physical ones," said Daniel, looking over his notes again. "The ironic thing is, instead of using an equivalent of Latin, their entire language _is_ an equivalent of Latin."

"The most important item seems to be the 'something-something tri-leafed tubular yellow' plant," said Jordan.

"Something-something?" asked Jack.

"Well, certain scientific terms will take a while to figure out," explained Daniel. "But let's focus on tri-leafed and yellow."

"And tubular," put in Jack.

"Tubular meaning stem, maybe?" Jordan threw out.

"Or root," put in Dixon. "Are we looking at a tree or the grass?"

"Both," said Jack firmly, standing up straight and gripping his weapon tighter. "Dixon, you and I will look in the forest. Daniel and the doctor, grass and moss."

"And Teal'c, sir?" asked Dixon.

"He may be needed elsewhere," said Jack, looking Teal'c in the eye.

"Thank you, Colonel," said Janet.

Teal'c bowed his head. "I am unfamiliar with examining vegetation in any circumstance."

"Get to it," said Jack snappily.

ooooooo

_~We only have three days left now,~ _commented Sam as she and Jolinar stopped to eat.

_*There is no point in returning to the planet until negotiations are finished,* _said Jolinar. _*It is well that we integrated ourselves only so far.*_

_~Will it be suspicious on our part?~ _asked Sam. _~A week of absence?~_

_*For which we can claim business to our god that is above mere Jaffa concern; it is not entirely uncommon.*_

_~Hmm, just thinking about how long this negotiation may take,~ _said Sam. _~Sha're will not be able to bring Shifu for safety's sake, but who will take care of him here, especially in his current state?~_

Jolinar paused for a minute. _*While we wait, we should meet with Dorin and Larys to see what they have available to help with that.*_

_~And perhaps pay a visit to Selmak and Saroosh,~ _suggested Sam.

Jolinar paused again, but only for a second. _*Perhaps.*_

ooooooo

Daniel's heart began to race, and he quickly beeped to Jack over the radio.

"_Found something, Daniel?"_

"I think," he answered, looking again at the plant in his hand. "I think we're limiting our definitions to how Earth biological labels work, as well as the vocabulary."

"_An amazing feat, considering that some of us don't really know the Earth forms,"_ opined Jack.

"The roots of this kind of grass are solid, but their structure is as if they're wrapping around a—a tube of dirt," explained Daniel quickly. "It took me a while to see, but I had a feeling something was up."

"_So what do we do over here, then?" _asked Jack.

"Well, if I'm reading this correctly, we need two more plants, one with 'green-shingle' and one with 'long-tower'."

"_Oh yes, that makes so much sense, Daniel."_

"My first thought was that green-shingle meant leaves from the canopy, but now I'm not so sure," said Daniel.

"_Hey Jackson, what about these saplings we've seen with the green stuff on the bark?" _called Dixon.

"Exactly!" said Daniel. "Shingle's not the right word, or else we just have too narrow a description."

"_Right, so we just need long-tower," _said Jack. _"That'll be a piece of cake."_

Daniel put his radio back. All they had to do was keep an open mind—and despite his words, Daniel could hear in Jack's voice that he was willing to do that. It was his team at risk.

"_Shit, damn!" _came Dixon over the radio again.

"_What is it, Dixon?" _answered Jack swiftly.

"_I'm bit, sir, about fifty yards west of your position," _said Dixon, his tone tight. _"God! I can't move—got my shoulder. Before—anything—I need you to get the green stuff and give it to the doctor."_

"_On my way, Dixon,"_ said Jack.

Daniel's face tensed, and he looked to Jordan to make sure that he wasn't anywhere near the trees. Dixon would be fine if they could help Mckay, but Daniel didn't want his professor leaving this mission with anything worse than a scare. He looked down at his notes again, frowning.

"Daniel, look at this!" Jordan called from a little ways off, and Daniel looked up. Moving quickly for his age, he came over to Daniel, something in his hand. "Look," he said, holding it out to Daniel.

It was a rock, orangeish and strangely formed.

"They're a few inches beneath the surface, all over," said Jordan. Daniel noted now that his hands were covered in a sandy dirt. "I know we assumed plants, but I thought it wouldn't hurt to dig deeper after you found that root."

Daniel's mind clicked as he saw the flat base of the rock and the spires that grew upward, almost like a tower. It wasn't a rock, it was a mineral deposit of some kind, seeping down from the dirt in columns until it hit some layer that forced it to stop. "That's it, that's the long-tower," said Daniel, face brightening. "Jack," he called into his radio. "We got it!"

"_I'm almost there," _said Jack. Sure enough, a minute later, and Jack was coming across the field at a quick pace.

Daniel quickly gathered the three things and ran over to Janet, who was putting a blanket over Mckay.

"He's going into cardiogenic shock," she said without looking up. "I'm not going to be able to help much longer."

"We have what we need," said Daniel, shuffling the ingredients to one hand so he could open up Jordan's notebook. "And here's the proportions. It looks like it makes a powder, or a paste."

"Thank god," said Janet, reaching up for them. "Get the mortar and pestle from that bag, Teal'c."

Daniel was slightly put off by the idea of a medical doctor carrying a mortar and pestle, but Janet did have a strange occupation. After casting quick glance at the page, he ripped off a piece of the root and handed it to her.

"This going to be enough?" asked Jack, watching as Daniel frowned at the fungi.

"I hope so," murmured Daniel, handing it all to Janet. Last of all, he broke a few pieces of the mineral deposit.

It was mostly dry, and crumbled into a fine dust after a few stirs of the pestle. Janet mixed it up, then looked to Daniel. "Dr. Jackson?"

"I'm looking." Daniel flipped through the last two pages, making sure he knew what he was doing. "Okay, just sprinkle it over the wound near the branch until you get a reaction."

"Are you sure?" Janet asked, giving him a firm glance.

"It won't hurt him," said Daniel, shaking his head.

Mckay's vitals were flickering out. Janet took a deep breath and sprinkled the green-brown dust on what was still visible of Mckay's hand. It dissolved into the blood and fluid on the wound, and the branch trembled. Encouraged, Janet sprinkled a little more. The mouth of the branch opened wide, dropping Mckay's arm like a stone and causing Janet to gasp and leap back half a foot.

"Get him out of there!" ordered Jack, stepping forward. In a couple seconds he and Teal'c had dragged Mckay's limp body a few feet away.

Janet had her radio out. "I need my medical team ready, code red." Tucking it back in its holder, she turned to Mckay. "He's not out of this by a long shot. I have to hope this will make a difference." She looked at her mortar, but seemed relieved at how much was still left.

"I'll take some to Dixon," said Jack. Janet nodded and pinched some of it into a small container.

"Teal'c, I need your and Dr Jackson's help in getting Dr. Mckay onto this stretcher," said Janet, covering Mckay's hand in a fine film of the dust. His heart-rate was rising from the near-flatline of before, and his uninjured hand began to twitch.

"Daniel?" Jordan was quietly watching the proceedings.

"We can handle it from here," said Daniel, putting a hand on his arm. "Take the guns and go through the gate—tell them what you know. We'll be there in a minute."

Jordan nodded and quickly gathered up the useless articles they had dropped. With Teal'c's help, Daniel rolled Mckay's body heavily onto the stretcher, wincing as he did so. As Janet moved the wires out of the way and picked up the box, they stood at either end and picked him up.

"Colonel, how is Major Dixon?" called Janet through the radio.

"_He'll be fine—we'll be there in a minute," _said Jack. _"Go through the gate! If these trees get vicious, I don't want us all screwed."_

"Okay, that's our orders," said Janet crisply.

Teal'c took the lead, walking backwards with the stretcher poles in his hands as he was carrying nothing more than hollow bamboo rods. Daniel had to move swiftly to keep up, and even Janet, only carrying her medical supplies, was moving at a near jog. A few more feet, though, and they were through the wormhole. Daniel didn't even cast a backwards glance.

"Get this man to the infirmary at once!" called Janet as soon as they were through.

Two medical assistants rushed forward to take the stretcher from Daniel and Teal'c and get it on the cart, leaving the two to stand in the room. Jordan stood to one side, arms crossed nervously. Wordlessly, Daniel cast him a glance. He nodded, almost unfazed.

They didn't have to wait long before Jack stumbled through the gate, carrying a pale and bleeding Dixon, but also a Dixon who could walk with support. Another set of nurses took him from Jack's hands, but Dixon was still awake enough to protest that he didn't need that much help.

Behind them, the gate shut down. Jack, Teal'c, Daniel, and Jordan stood in the gateroom, some breathing heavily, some trying to release their tension, all unsure of what came next. Up from the control room, Hammond spoke into the mic.

"Stand down."

There was a moment of silence, and then Jack managed to sum up everyone's thoughts.

"Well, screw that planet!"

—

**Author's Notes:** As you might have guessed from the last chapter, this is the first meeting of SG-1 and the Ancients in this AU. It's still mostly a mystery to SG-1, but more will be explained in upcoming chapters.


	31. Care

**Chapter 30 - Care**

Sam was fidgeting, hands twirling an invisible pen as she bit back another question. At least Jolinar was on her side for this one, she thought. By now, she had decided that Larys was her preferred contact among the Tok'ra medical force. He was kind, open, positive, explaining everything at a level of detail that as a scientist she appreciated. He saw his role as caretaker for patients, only there to keep the Tok'ra alive.

Sam had first appreciated Dorin's counterpart to him, with the intellectual and theoretical approach to medicine that made her more than cool under any circumstances; but now, sitting by her side and discussing Shifu, Sam saw the downsides. Dorin had a cautious way of giving information, making Sam sure that she was holding back important things. Or, it might be that she didn't think Sam would comprehend it.

"Let me get this straight," she finally put in, breaking off Dorin's rambling—as it seemed to Sam—train of thought. "Have or have not you actually done this level of repression?"

Dorin took a deep breath, leaning forward in her chair. "It is manipulation on the genetic level, Samantha. Turning off alleles or even genomes on command is not something to be taken lightly. We have kept it only as a last option, and that option has never been needed."

"Theoretical, then," said Sam, and sighed, her hand stilling and resting on the edge of her chair.

"The strongest theory we have," added Dorin.

"And it has no side affects that you can see?" continued Sam, looking straight at Dorin.

"It is only dealing with the genetic memory," said Dorin firmly. "Were he not human, it might have interfered with later memories, but not so for this child."

Sam nodded. "And how long will it take?"

"Many hours," said Dorin, "not to mention later monitoring of his status."

"Wait a minute," said Sam, putting a finger up skeptically. "If the Tok'ra have no children, how can you be so sure?"

"Samantha, I know that you have strong emotions for this situation, but do not forget that you can answer some of your own questions," Dorin sighed.

_*She means the offworld cultures that we mingle with,* _said Jolinar.

"You've done medical assistance there?" asked Sam.

"At times, yes; enough to learn what we need," said Dorin.

"Yes, but will that satisfy Sha're," murmured Sam.

"I believe in this case it is only your worries that need be assuaged," said Dorin, sitting up straight. "Sha're has not your understanding of medicine."

"Obviously you haven't been looking at her reading material," said Sam, a weary smile gracing her face. "But no, you are right in a sense."

"I needed not your confirmation of that," said Dorin with a teasing look that barely broke through her demeanor.

Sam sat quietly for a moment, playing back their conversation. Though they sat in the fore of the infirmary, it was still and silent. There were but few rooms, for as Dorin had once explained there were only few times where rest and symbiotic care could not mend all. Even so, after a few moments Sam paused.

"Where is Shifu?" she asked.

"Sleeping," said Dorin, looking up from the datapad that she had turned to in Sam's silence.

"Then it's been quite a long time, since I was here several hours earlier and it was the same situation," said Sam. "You found something to help him?"

"No, Larys has him on a mild sedative for today," said Dorin.

"Oh?" asked Sam, surprised. "Is that healthy?"

Dorin eyed her.

"I mean, for a long time—was it necessary?" Sam continued.

"It will do the child no harm, and the mother much good," said Dorin. "Larys cares for little more."

Sam had a twinge of reservation, but nothing notable. She stood up, saying, "Then I need to talk to Sha're and discuss what you have explained, if she is awake."

Dorin nodded, and continued with whatever work she had.

_~This could throw a wrench into the plan,~ _said Sam.

Jolinar hesitated, translating the metaphor. _*It could,* _she said slowly. _*Sha're will not be eager to jump into this, but it must be done swiftly if she is to accompany us.*_

_~And she has to do that, at least,~ _said Sam. _~Maybe she'll jump for postponing the whole issue.~_

_*And leaving her unstable child in the hands of Larys and Dorin? Surely you know her better than that.*_

_~Right, that's not happening, not when he's so needy of her. I don't think she even trusts Martouf that much.~_

_*A wise mother, then.*_

ooooooo

"Hey there," said Daniel with a smile, hands in his pockets as he stood by Mckay's bedside.

The bedridden scientist licked his dry lips slowly and blinked at the world. "Jackson, I hardly asked for this," he sighed.

"Janet called me when you woke up," said Daniel, grabbing the nearby stool and taking his seat. "We've been worried—Dixon will be along later."

"Great, just what I need," muttered Mckay. "I don't want commiser—wait, how did he get out of here?"

"He just got a bite in the arm, Rodney," said Daniel, a little bemused. "He said Janet patched him up and sent him to his room."

Mckay groaned and closed his eyes. His normally pale face was still downright pasty, his arm heavily bandaged, and two IVs mingled with the other cords attached to him. There was that bit of prickliness in his expression, but Daniel was used to that.

"Well, someone doesn't look so hot," commented Jack, swinging around the corner and clasping his hands together.

"Hello? Someone almost died?" Mckay wasted no time opening his eyes and responding to Jack.

"Yeah, try not to do that again, will you?" Jack nodded to Mckay, as serious as he ever got.

"Try not to let trees eat me? Yeah, great advice—never heard that one before." It didn't take a linguist to see the relief beneath the bluster in that comment. Daniel and Jack shared a look.

"What are you two doing over here?" demanded Janet, marching over in her four inch heels, clipboard in one hand and syringe in the other.

"Nothing, ma'am," said Jack quickly, eyes darting at once to the sizable needle. "Just...um...bugging your patients?"

"Dr. Mckay needs a good amount of rest before he gets any visiting," advised Janet.

"Right," said Jack, lifting a finger in a parody of a salute.

"I'll see if there's any jello to bring down for your dinner," said Daniel, standing up so that Janet could come and inject her syringe into Mckay's IV.

"Only if it's blue," said Mckay.

"I remember," said Daniel with a smile.

"Where's—Teal'c?" asked Mckay, a little groggy now.

"I'll bet he's coming along with Dixon," said Jack, as he turned for the door.

"Dixon? Did he leave?" asked Janet.

"Was he not supposed to?" asked Daniel as he followed Jack.

Janet shook her head and tapped her heel, her muttered "Oh, that man" following Daniel down the hall. He smiled. It was late afternoon again on Earth, almost a day since the mission, and he was ready for a little nap after the suspense of the last night and morning. He had to wonder, if that was the quiet, easy mission, what about the one that SG-5 took? Maybe Mckay had always been right, it was the luck of SG-1. He really needed that nap—he was getting superstitious.

ooooooo

Sha're was dozed in a chair next to Shifu's cradle, one hand reaching in to rest on his tiny blanketed form, rising and falling as he breathed slowly and evenly. Her brow showed the traces of worried lines, but even the presence of her protective hand couldn't deny that there was some peace in her face. Sam stood for a minute or two, letting Jolinar take control for no particular reason.

And then Jolinar sighed and turned the corner, looking to where Selmak and Saroosh lay. They looked so old, so aged beyond a normal lifespan. Sam seemed to see through Jolinar's eyes, seeing through the outer frailty to see the inner source of strength beneath. It was worse than before, worse than if Saroosh was just reaching the end of her days. Like a hammer straight to her heart, Sam saw two losses approaching in that one body lying absolutely still in the infirmary bed before her. She said nothing, and Jolinar turned away.

There was a moment where Jolinar had never felt closer to Sam, and she couldn't tell if she was just feeling Jolinar's grief on top of hers or if they were now one grief melded together, because the edges were blurry and she couldn't see any of it clearly. It was too close, and Sam felt that at any moment she would feel the loss of Rosha and Quinta and Elista and all the others that were buried deep in Jolinar's mind.

Beyond them, Sha're stirred and sat up, looking first to see if Shifu was still sleeping.

The grief was gone in a second, and Sam wondered where exactly it went. Where did they all go?

"Jolinar?" asked Sha're in a voice just above a whisper, standing from her chair and stretching her neck.

"We did not wake you, I hope," said Jolinar in a low voice, stepping forward.

"With what, your silence?" asked Sha're, something approaching a true smile on her face. "Of course not."

"We spoke with Dorin after the meeting with the Council," said Jolinar. "She explained in further detail what might help your child."

"And?" asked Sha're expectantly.

Jolinar took a deep breath. "Samantha thinks it is sound."

"Safe?" Sha're's words were carefully chosen.

Jolinar lent control over to the one who could answer best. "I cannot know," Sam admitted, opening her hands as she spoke the honest truth. "I—the Tok'ra cannot take the time to show me in close enough detail for me to judge. I must take their word."

"Why?" asked Sha're. "Can not you understand it?"

"It's not a 'can I' issue, Sha're," said Sam. "Just an 'am I allowed' one. Dorin is only following protocol, not revealing something so important to someone who is not fully dedicated to the cause." Sam sighed, the last words coming out frustratedly.

There was a brief pause, and then Sha're spoke. "But you think you understand enough?"

"I do, yes," said Sam. "And Sha're," she added, looking the women straight in the eye, "I would never imagine that Dorin would suggest anything she did not fully believe in. Even though I cannot know for sure, I know that _she_ can."

Sha're nodded, her brow creased. Her head tipped to one side, her worry not without its cracks. "Perhaps I shall be convinced soon as well."

"There is one thing." Sam stepped forward, still looking at her closely, hands twisting to each other as she almost frowned. "The mission—it is less than three days from now. And Shifu can't come."

Sha're looked up at Sam, the crease deepening. "And I cannot leave him like this."

Sam nodded. "I know."

Sha're glanced back at her still-sleeping child. "But..."

"I'm sorry, Sha're, you'll have to make a decision tonight," said Sam.

Sha're brought her hands up, hiding her face for a moment as she took a long, deep breath. Lowering them, she looked up straight into Sam's eyes. "That woman was right. Anise. How I hated her, but she was right."

Sam said nothing, just tilted her head in an almost-acknowledgment. Sha're stepped back, sitting down again. She caressed Shifu's downy head with one hand, turning her head so her face was hidden behind the wealth of dark curls. Sam didn't move any closer.

_*If she does not choose, what then?*_

Sam couldn't read Jolinar's tone, but it almost didn't matter. _~I don't know.~_

"If I do this," Sha're said quietly, "and I go with you, what do you think Dan'yel will say?"

"Does it matter?" asked Sam with emotion, stepping closer to her.

Sha're looked up. "Sa'm, he will be Shifu's father—I simply wonder what he would say."

"If he were here," Sam finished for her. "But Sha're, he isn't. He has no say in this. He had the chance, and..." she stopped, letting the volume of her voice lower from its unexpected rise.

"You thought he would come?" asked Sha're, a little confused as she looked to Sam.

"I—I—" Sam broke off, unsure of her own emotions. Was this bitterness she felt? Yes, only this morning she had spoken to the Council of her lack of total trust in her old friends, but that was nothing, it was only caution from them. "I shouldn't have," she finally said.

Sha're watched her as they both had no more words. Sam realized that she had once hoped, somewhere deep down, and it had been an idle one. She had even given it up without a thought when proven wrong. And yet now, all the tension and finality resting on this one mission had led, not to renewed hope, but to fear. Fear that things were going down like before. Fear that Shifu and Saroosh were omens. Unfounded, unconscious, mere visceral fears—and they were oh so real.

"Sha're, if there is anyone who can make this decision, it is you," Sam said earnestly, reaching out to take Sha're's free hand in hers. "Don't listen to me, don't think of Daniel, don't worry about anything. The more you think, the more your judgment will get clouded."

Sha're smiled softly, wearily, the worry sitting in the back of her eyes. "Dear Sa'm."

Sam sat down opposite her, releasing her hand and waiting patiently. She could feel Jolinar's presence, quiet and observant and the backbone of Sam's trust at this moment.

Sha're looked again to her child and some of the worry faded. "I do not doubt my own judgment," she said quietly. "And I know that I have the will to make sure that he is well again, forever."

Sam breathed out a breath she had not been holding. Saying nothing, she just looked Sha're in the eyes.

"But Sa'm, he is still my baby," Sha're said, so softly it could have been a whisper, a trembling one. "I—"

"I will be there," said Sam, nodding.

"Then before he wakes again, I should speak to Dorin." Share rose to her feet and paused, rolling the weight on her feet from heels to balls and then back, looking down at the floor. Then, with a deep breath, she stood up straight.

Sam rose to follow her, her worries for mother and child stronger in this moment than any other. But there was hope for Shifu, and that meant hope for Sha're, and who knew what other hopes could follow. Sam had been forced to leave behind some deeply held ones, and now needed to grasp for new ones to replace them.

ooooooo

"Ow!" Dixon barked, jumping an inch from where he leaned back against the cot. "Come on!"

"Come on, _sir_," corrected Jack with his Look.

"Not off duty," muttered Dixon, rubbing his bandaged right arm.

After Janet had retrieved Dixon, she had forced him into one night in the infirmary, bed and all. With Mckay across from him, it called for a team debriefing of sorts, and they all had showed up. With no vocal planning at all, Jack was sitting next to Dixon, and Teal'c sat on a stool at the end of his bed, facing Jordan and Daniel in their positions by Mckay.

"So, you're going to live?" Jordan asked Mckay, casting a glance to the brief war of rank across the room.

"Yes," said Mckay, eyes almost rolling along with his obvious tone. "That at least is certain."

Jordan smiled. "Well, I am due in Chicago tomorrow evening, so I needed to make sure before I go."

"A numb left hand, that's all, now," said Mckay, letting his eyes rest behind his eyelids.

"Pain meds are great, aren't they," commented Dixon, readjusting his position on the bed. "I don't feel a thing, so long as I'm not jostled." He tossed a glance to Jack, who plainly ignored it.

Daniel sat quietly, watching the good cheer that came out of relief among his team. He glanced a couple times a couple beds down, noting that Jacob Carter was awake and watching them. He hadn't spoken to the general since their conversation a few days back, but he had a feeling that the man would have been more curious had he not been so far gone. Daniel suspected that all his strength was spent in preparing for his last mission—it hit him hard sometimes, the knowledge of what Sam would be losing, and the fact that Jacob might never see her as she used to be.

"Hey!" Something flew out of the air to smack Mckay squarely on the chest, rousing him from his light doze.

"Where'd you get a bouncing ball?" asked Daniel curiously, turning to look towards Jack.

"You could have hit something!" protested Mckay.

"Punishment, oh Mckay, for your crime of being bored with us here," called Dixon across the way, grinning. "What are you three doing, anyway, moping?"

Mckay picked up the two-inch blue ball with his free hand, juggling it slightly in his palm as he glared at Jack and Dixon. Then the glare left, and he glanced to Daniel and then back to the others. Daniel couldn't read his expression, but it became clear when Mckay tossed the ball with a swift throw. Daniel's eyebrows rose as it bounced right off the top of Dixon's head, and at just the right angle bounced back to Mckay's hand. Oh yes, Rodney Mckay was smug.

"Hey!" protested Dixon.

Daniel saw Jack whisper something to Dixon, which seemed to lighten his face. "Uh oh," he said, turning his head towards Mckay even as he kept an eye on the other side. "You accepted the challenge." Across from them, Jack grabbed an Ace bandage and pinned the ends together, and Teal'c joined them at the top of the bed.

"Projectile wars are always won by the physicist," said Mckay in a low tone, a light of confidence in his eye.

"I think I might want to retire for the night," said Jordan loud enough for them to hear, as he gave a cautious smile.

"What, and leave the geeks one man short?" called Jack.

"Leave what?" Jack's face instantly fell as Janet's voice drifted towards them. "Colonel, what are you doing with my infirmary?"

The doctor had walked in to check on Jacob, but Jack's mini-slingshot with the Ace bandage and his pile of gauze roll ammunition had caught her sharp eye immediately.

"Ma'am, you wouldn't let us leave, what else were we to do?" asked Dixon, half seriously.

"Not hold a war, and certainly not with my medical equipment," Janet said firmly, but Daniel thought he saw the corner of her mouth quiver. She held out her hand like an expectant teacher for the stolen goods. "And who were you intending on attacking? My patient in intensive care?"

"Yes," acknowledged Jack, reluctantly handing over the slingshot.

"Well, if this has gotten so boring, perhaps you should leave Dr. Mckay alone instead of attacking him," advised Janet.

"I don't mind," said Mckay.

Janet glanced over to them.

"We were winning," said Daniel with a cheeky grin.

"Not a good excuse, sorry, Doctors," said Janet.

Daniel noted how Mckay carefully closed his hand around the bouncy ball still in his possession, making sure Janet didn't take his one advantage. Janet cast one last disapproving glance, and then returned to check up on Jacob. Jack sighed and looked up at the clock.

"I shall bid you all farewell, then," said Dr. Jordan as he rose from his seat.

"See ya, doc," said Jack, nodding to him with a respect that belied his light words.

Teal'c bowed his head in a silent farewell.

"Yeah, thanks for the help," said Dixon.

"I couldn't have done it in time without you," acknowledged Daniel, standing and shaking his professor's hand.

"Glad to be of any help," said Jordan, face lightening. "I'm not sure if I'd want to do it again, but...thank you, Daniel, for making this happen."

"No problem," said Daniel, smiling. He glanced to Mckay, wondering why he didn't say anything.

"Winning, eh?" said Jordan, amused, following Daniel's gaze.

Mckay's pain medications had taken over, and his eyes were closed in drowsy slumber. Any moment, Daniel expected a soft snore.

"Well, I know he'd thank you if he was awake," said Daniel.

Jordan nodded and left the infirmary, casting back one last look before he turned the corner. Jack finished putting back the gauze rolls and looked to Teal'c.

"Time for bed," announced Jack quietly, standing up and stretching. Teal'c nodded, putting his chair up against the wall.

Dixon lay back on his bed, sighing. Jack nodded to him before taking his own leave, Teal'c close behind. Daniel walked the other way, passing Janet on his way out just as she was headed towards Mckay, and stopping for a second.

"Janet, what is Mckay's condition exactly?" he asked in a quiet tone. "I know he's out of danger, but what does it look like for recovery?"

"At this point I can't be sure," said Janet seriously, looking only barely surprised at Daniel's question. "The venom in his hand broke down some of his muscle tissues, so that will be a couple weeks on its own, but I'm more concerned about the nerve damage. It's likely that he will have some numb spots from where the surface nerves are damaged, and those will take a few months to heal, but I can only hope that the deeper ones are not fully damaged." She sighed. "Whatever happens, he can be grateful it was his left hand only."

Daniel nodded.

"I think we can be glad that he doesn't know how close a call it was," admitted Janet. "But we'll see how he takes it when the shock and medication begins to fade, and also when he finds out he's not going on your next mission."

"What about General Carter?" asked Daniel, looking over to Janet's other major patient.

"We'll have to see about that too," said Janet with pursed lips.

Daniel exhaled, gave a last smile to Janet, and walked back up to his lab to gather his things. Janet was willing to be cautiously optimistic, so he was too. No point in worrying this close to the event—things would run their course no matter who was there. But there was that niggling doubt in the depths of his mind, telling him that something was going to go wrong. _No,_ he told it. _Things have already gone wrong; this will make things right. It must._


	32. Healing

**Chapter 31 - Healing**

Morning came on the Tok'ra home-world, and though the base functioned as usual, it was momentous for a few. Sha're's determination to help Shifu had not changed overnight, and she approached Sam and Jolinar in the Tok'ra mess hall to ask for their assistance. Any worries beyond the normal ones were carefully hidden behind her face, giving Sam cause once again to worry for her. At least with Jolinar, she had some prerogative to persist in figuring out what was wrong—with Sha're, she could only accept what hints the other woman would give.

Sam also was hiding her feelings, however. As much as she had given her support for the Tok'ra to suppress Shifu's Goa'uld memories, it rubbed her in all the wrong ways. Not only was this a very dangerous and delicate operation, it seemed intrusive and mechanical, like something a stereotypical mad scientist would do. And to let Dorin do it to tiny, innocent Shifu, with his chubby face and hands...Sam had to repeat often to herself that it was only for his safety and well-being, two things that could not be achieved without it. Jolinar had no comment, not strange to Sam considering that she was accustomed to technology solving so many problems.

Shifu was still dozing, only one wet trail down his fat right cheek an indication of his former distress, as Sam accompanied Sha're down to the infirmary where Dorin was waiting for them. The Tok'ra doctor was swift and efficient as soon as she had Sha're's consent, not wanting to have to keep the child under sedation longer than absolutely necessary. For once, Sam was glad that Dorin wasn't as open as Larys about what exactly went into the procedure. Her mind made up, Sha're showed no outward hesitation as she carefully transferred the bundled Shifu into Dorin's secure grasp. Sha're planted a last soft kiss on her baby's forehead, whispering soft words that neither Sam nor Dorin seemed to hear, and then nodded to Dorin. The Tok'ra took him inside the lab that she had set up in the infirmary, leaving Sha're to set up a position outside where she could wait comfortably for several hours. Sam hadn't set her mind just yet, and followed Dorin in.

"How long should we expect this to take?" she asked quietly, as Dorin gently put Shifu into the cradle-type bed that would keep him secure for the procedure.

"An hour, possibly," said Dorin, making sure that Shifu's blanket was wrapped snugly around him. His eyes opened as he was adjusted, but he didn't make any sound. "The device works quickly."

Sam's brow creased. It was all unnerving, seeing the tiny baby all swaddled up in blankets and knowing what was going to be done to him. Only Dorin's calm care and assurance countered it, even as she put a powdered anesthetic on her finger and let Shifu suckle it off. She looked to Sam and gave her a small smile.

"It will be fine, Samantha, but I must do this alone," she said.

As Sam turned to leave, she saw Dorin wheeling a large machine over towards Shifu, something that looked similar to an x-ray device on Earth. Except this would be affecting his genetic structure, delicately turning off the parts that made him a victim of the Goa'uld. He slumbered peacefully now under the influence of the sedatives and anesthesia, his rose-gold skin glowing healthily under the lights of the infirmary, thumb comfortably in his mouth.

_*And he will be like this at all times once this procedure is complete,* _said Jolinar. _*He is being given freedom.*_

_~I know. It's just—if nothing else, it seems a little dangerous.~_

_*He was born into a dangerous life; there is no escaping it now.*_

_~And hopefully he'll be with Daniel soon, and all this will be forgotten,~ _sighed Sam as she left Dorin and the infant behind.

Sha're had found a barren corner of the infirmary, far away from anything, and sat cross-legged on the floor. Her hands rested lightly on her knees, but as Sam found her she had not closed her eyes.

"It'll be about an hour," Sam said quietly. She hesitated, not as comfortable as Sha're in sitting on what she considered the floor. Hastily glancing around, she found a low crate that would work better than one of the stools, and sat across from Sha're.

"Thank you," said Sha're quietly.

"Do you need me to leave you alone while you...meditate?" asked Sam, indicating Sha're's position.

"No," she said, shaking her head and looking up with suddenly open eyes. "Sa'm—I need you to talk to me."

"Of course," said Sam. "Usually it's the opposite that I have a hard time complying with."

Sha're tilted her head in a feeble attempt to hide the hint of amusement on her face, yet a hint that quickly faded. "I do not find it easy to speak."

"Really?" asked Sam, leaning forward a little to rest her forearms on her knees. "I never would have guessed."

Sha're's head dipped for a second. Jolinar's attention to the strategic side of dress and style had influenced Sam enough that she took that second to ponder Sha're's flurry of dark curls. Oftentimes, when Sam and Jolinar would visit, they would notice how she had to push them back from her face to accomplish even simple tasks. They couldn't be meant to attract anyone, so the only conclusion that Jolinar came to was that they were to distract from her face. Sam didn't quite buy it until now, as she couldn't quite see what emotion colored Sha're's face.

"You cannot understand how it is for me to be here," Sha're spoke up after that brief moment. "I have never been in a place where my speech was so requested; I have always been accustomed to listen." She looked up at Sam. "You have your science that is so needed, the Tok'ra all have information to share, but what do I have? Why would I want to speak?"

_*Because speech is all that reveals, and a mystery forever locked will drive all away frustrated,* _said Jolinar, and though she was not speaking to Sha're, Sam wasn't sure who was the intended audience.

"Because not all speech is about facts," she said simply aloud.

"I know, but it has been difficult to learn," said Sha're with a long sigh. "At this moment, though, I cannot be alone with my thoughts."

Sam almost asked to hear them, only to have Jolinar say quietly, _*She doesn't need that.*_

Deciding that Jolinar would know in this matter, Sam waited. She didn't have to wait for long.

"What will my role be for this negotiation?" asked Sha're, firm and to the point.

Sam felt glad that she was not focusing all her thoughts on what was happening with Shifu, but when thinking about the question itself, she found it difficult. "What do you mean?"

"Your people will be there," said Sha're. "Jolinar will be there for the Tok'ra, and you are the one in between. Am I a token, to show that the Tok'ra do more than talk?"

"Of course not," protested Sam. "The biggest reason for this negotiation is to get you back to where you belong; any alliance that gets made will be a pittance."

"Half the reason," Sha're corrected. "You would not have foregone a meeting with your people had I not been a factor."

"Are you worried about that?" asked Sam, frowning.

Sha're sighed, brushing her bangs out of her eyes. "I am sorry if I appear so frantic," she said. "It's just—." She murmured a few words in Goa'uld that Sam thought she recognized as curses.

_*Her eyes are so dark,* _commented Jolinar.

"I haven't slept well in at least a cycle of the moon," admitted Sha're, as if she was following Jolinar's train of thought. "And sometimes I wish that I did not—that this child—" She trailed off almost uncomfortably.

"You've talked to Larys or Dorin, right?" asked Sam, her brow still creased but her frown gone.

"Yes, yes, I know it is all expected," said Sha're shortly. "But Sa'm, I feel lost. The excitement and joy is fading so quickly, and this place does not help."

Sam tipped her head, unsure of what that meant. Jolinar, on the other hand—Sam gladly let her jump to the forefront.

"What troubles you?" she asked, Sha're looking up for a second to recognize the change in voice and words.

"If it were not for my hope that this will all be over in a matter of days, I would admit to feeling like my mind were disappearing into this place," Sha're explained.

"As Larys suggested?" Jolinar followed up, but Sam had the distinct feeling that it was merely a leading question.

"Larys can have no opinion on the subject," Sha're countered firmly. "Was he not born to these tunnels? I long for my desert. The movement of air across my face, not this ever clean stillness. The heat of day and chill of night, not this even warmth. The feel of shifting sand, not the hardness of crystal."

Sam's guess was correct, and a sudden surge of sympathy emanating from Jolinar made her feel confused and a little disappointed when she could not summon any of her own. Jolinar dipped her head towards Sha're, something deeper than a generic nod of understanding. "It is well that we have been so often off-world," she said quietly.

Sha're looked up at her, the cloud of distress in her eyes mingling with the light of shared feelings. "I miss Abydos," she said in the same tone. "And it is likely that I will never return, even after I am united with Dan'yel and Shifu in safety."

"The planet may be safe someday," Jolinar put in, but as her eyes made contact with Sha're's, Sam could tell that they both knew it was a throwaway fact.

"I could be happy on this planet, I think, if I were allowed on the surface," said Sha're. "But I am not, a continuing curse of Amonet, and what happens when I join Dan'yel?"

"Underground halls of mindlessly grey stone," said Jolinar with a sigh. "And even on the surface...roads and buildings and dirt and grass."

Sha're nodded, adjusting herself so that her knees were folded up in front of her. "Sometimes I fear that even Dan'yel will not be enough to counter it, but I know that it is only my desperation."

"You will find that love can overcome many things," said Jolinar with a soft smile that rarely appeared. _*More than you know,* _she thought silently. Sam was thoughtful, listening.

Sha're answered with a smile of her own. "Even after a full Abydonian year?"

"I have seen your Daniel since then; you have nothing to fear," said Jolinar comfortably. "I have been gone for such a length of time as well. It aches, but it is bearable on both sides."

"Oh, my longing has never been so strong in me," admitted Sha're, her face slowly lightening. "But sometimes—do you know how you can forget him at times? How he becomes your foundation and nothing more, and when you remember there is a moment of fear that you may forget him?"

"But the very worry proves it unfounded," said Jolinar nodding. "So many times, Sha're."

"I am glad then," said Sha're, sighing and closing her eyes for a second.

Sam didn't know what she was thinking. A part of her was happy, seeing how these two friends of hers were coming close in a way that she always thought they should. And yet, she was uncomfortable, the one left out because she could not relate. The looks, the tone, she recognized—but how could one so hate the underground? Be so fully one with another person? She was lost in the emotions.

And as they so often did, Jolinar and Sha're fell silent again. But though Sha're's brow slowly furrowed again, and her mouth tightened in worry, this silence was not cold. They had nothing further to say, that was all. They had found a way to communicate without words, something that Sam was only beginning to fully understand.

ooooooo

Daniel had to appreciate the lack of urgent duties for today as he wandered into the SGC early in the morning. His main priority was supposed to be the mission report, but to give that full credit, he just had to figure out exactly what had happened. Mckay's case had complicated things—he needed to do what he did best, and read between the lines of everything to find the connections. Read between the lines quite literally, in some cases.

Last night he had printed off the photos he'd taken of the parts of the tower that he and Jordan had not translated, and had been quite distracted with the text before getting to sleep far too late. It was amazing, this thing they had so accidentally discovered. Despite the fairly primitive stone construction, the linguistic evidence all pointed towards a civilization far beyond what the Romans had ever achieved while they still spoke Latin.

The more he translated, the more he analyzed, the more he grew excited. The Alterans, as they seemed to name themselves, had done amazing things on this planet. Frightening, to be sure, but it was a huge step for an advanced race. And even more, they seemed to be unaware of its significance. Daniel wished that anyone from his department were on base so he could have someone to bounce this off of, but Barbara Shore was helping SG-2 on some world and Gary Meyers was bringing in Robert Rothman later today. Daniel could wait, he supposed.

But, oh, oh, not this! Daniel grabbed the relevant sheet and leapt to his feet—he had to tell somebody.

"Whoa there, Daniel, where ya headed?" asked Jack as Daniel rushed into the elevator behind him, looking like he was about to stumble over his feet.

"Infirmary," said Daniel, pressing the button twice just to be sure.

Jack nodded, glancing at him, but saying nothing. The elevator went down with a little jerk, causing Jack to glare at it.

"So, what is it?" he finally asked.

"It's about the last planet we went to," said Daniel, jumping at the chance. "Those writings—they knew the Asgard, Jack!"

Jack shrugged. "Not only that, but I didn't even think of this at the time, but they must have been humanoid," continued Daniel, not really paying attention to the expression on Jack's face of slight trepidation. "I mean, some treatment that worked for them might have killed us if they were different enough, but it didn't."

"Did you, by any chance, find out why they made killer trees?" asked Jack, shaking his head a little.

"It was an experiment that went wrong," said Daniel.

"So why didn't they nuke before they left?" asked Jack. "See, I don't get that."

"Maybe they thought they could fix it, I don't know," said Daniel with a slight shrug. The elevator stopped and he got off, walking backwards in case Jack had something further to say. But the older man didn't, and the elevator doors closed again.

Daniel walked swiftly down the hall and into the infirmary, casting a quick look around to make sure nothing important was going on. Dixon had been let loose, but Siler was sitting on his bed as Janet seemed to be stitching up his arm. Apart from that, Jacob was resting, a working oxygen tank making him look weaker than ever, and Mckay was writing on a mini-whiteboard.

"Hey, Mckay," said Daniel, holding up his notebook as he came close.

"What now?" asked Mckay without looking up, putting down the dry-erase pen in frustration as he grabbed the cloth to erase part of his equation. "Do you know how hard it is to write with one hand?"

Daniel decided against reminding him that it was at least his dominant hand that was whole. He was looking decidedly healthier, though the dark circles under his eyes must have been indicative of something. Daniel didn't even realize he was lost in thought until Mckay let his hand drop and looked up with an impatient: "What?"

"Oh, I finished translating the monument on the planet with the," Daniel waved his hand, pencil still in his fingers, in Mckay's injury's general direction. "The science of it is simply amazing! I didn't even notice at first."

"No! You? What a shocker," intoned Mckay, eyes doing the traditional roll. "What, discover that they knew the world was round before we did?"

Daniel responded with his look, and Mckay at least said nothing more. "No...actually, they had a long term terraforming plan that was incredibly intricate."

"Really?" asked Mckay, face perking up as he looked intrigued.

Daniel continued. "Yes. You see, it should have been hitting us in the face with how obvious it was—if the Alterans were messing with genes and created some hybrid, why could we find the plants with the right chemicals to combat it right on that planet?" He paused, eyes wide in an open rhetorical question.

Mckay frowned, all sarcasm gone. "Wait..."

"See—it doesn't make sense!" continued Daniel, tapping the air with his pencil.

"So what, it was a trap?" said Mckay. "Except—no, don't answer that—why would they provide the escape instructions from the trap?"

Daniel nodded.

"But the plants wouldn't be there if there wasn't a reason, but if the killer trees were a mistake, why would they have thought to..." Mckay trailed off, looking up from his train of thought to see Daniel's expectant face. "Let me guess, you have a theory?"

Daniel tried not to grin, but a smile evaded his control anyway. "I was paying attention to the wording of the Alteran text, the tone which it was written in," he started, referring to his notebook. "When we first translated it, we just assumed it was a last effort of goodwill before they escaped with their lives, but that's not what it reads like. Yes, there's a warning at the beginning, but the text is full of a huge amount of detail that wouldn't be needed for someone just trying to escape the planet intact. Including, for instance, the processes of terraforming on the whole planet."

Opening the notebook, Daniel held it out so Mckay could lean over and look at it.

"Your handwriting's too small," Mckay pointed out, sitting up again with a light sigh.

"See this? It says that they were trying to create a new chemical balance in the ecosystem," said Daniel.

"An ecosystem of what, four or five life-forms?" asked Mckay, incredulous. It did not surprise Daniel that he knew so much about what they had discovered while he was unconscious—after all, what else was there to do away from labs and computers, especially when Dixon was bedridden for the night?

"But that's the mistake, not the trees," explained Daniel. "They wanted to work with carnivorous plants as natural barriers for hidden bases, but they were smart enough to know that they needed something to counteract such a deadly life-form. So they _bred_ the other plants specifically."

"They genetically altered mud and grass?"

Daniel nodded, his face bright. "Isn't it ingenious? The fungi grows on the trees that coexist with the killer ones, and the mineral deposit in the grass keeps the killer trees from overstepping their boundaries and taking over."

"So that perfect oval by the gate?" asked Mckay.

"Their natural barrier," said Daniel nodding. "Except, of course, they didn't get it quite right. They didn't take into account that the trees would be that appealing to the life on the planet. Their small patch quickly attracted enough to grow into a forest, which attracted more animals from around the planet, and so on. That gave them enough strength to spread and reproduce until they were overtaking the world. The Alterans had to stop them, and so they put extra mineral deposits by the gate, erected a monument explaining it all, and abandoned the project."

"But they didn't destroy it—oh yes, that's smart," commented Mckay. "No wonder they screwed up."

"Still, they had an incredible level of technology, despite the simple things we saw," said Daniel.

"What did you call them, the Alterans?" asked Mckay.

"That's what they seemed to name themselves," said Daniel, nodding. "And they knew the Asgard—maybe if we see Thor again, we can ask him about them. Looking at their script closely, actually, it seems like a simplified form of one of the ones from the Alliance at Heliopolis."

"The one that obviously doesn't exist anymore..." said Mckay. "Fat lot of help that is."

"We don't know that," cautioned Daniel. "The Asgard are still alive."

Mckay sighed. "Well, until we actually meet them, or find technology that we can use, I have no interest in them." He glanced down at his left hand, tightly bandaged, and sighed.

"How are you doing?" asked Daniel, changing the subject from the history/archaeology that he knew Mckay didn't like.

"Can't feel it, thank god," said Mckay dryly. "But, Frasier doesn't have to tell me that that doesn't mean anything. I'm not getting it back for a long while."

"Mm," said Daniel, frowning sympathetically.

"Honestly, I don't know if I even want to get back to the team," admitted Mckay, his tone surprisingly empty.

Daniel looked up, intent on his face. It was one of the rare moments where Mckay's guard dropped, and it seemed to be willingly this time. "Really?"

"I may not get this hand back," exclaimed Mckay with a hint of bitterness. "And whose fault is that? I always knew it was safer to stay in the lab, not risk yourself in field work, but I let them convince me and now look where it got me."

"You regret it then?" asked Daniel.

"At the moment, yes," said Mckay shortly. He paused. "I just don't know if I can go back to life before all this."

"It's addicting, isn't it," said Daniel, nodding.

"Just think of all the ground-breaking scientific discoveries that could be just sitting on some planet!" said Mckay. "And who's going to find them? Not them, obviously," he said, apparently indicating the rest of the team. "And not you either, Jackson."

"Yeah, not really my area," agreed Daniel, glad there wasn't too much disdain today. "You're right; we need you out there."

"And I need me out there," admitted Mckay.

"You just don't know if you want to risk the possibility that you may not survive to figure out exactly what all that you discover means," said Daniel with a sigh. Oh, he knew that feeling all too well...

Mckay didn't say anything, and Daniel figured that it was a rare moment when they both knew what the other was thinking and didn't jump right out and say it.

A sigh of frustration escaped Mckay.

"What?" asked Daniel.

"You made me lose my train of thought—I can't remember where I was going with this," said Mckay, indicating his whiteboard.

"Sorry," said Daniel. The moment was over, the guard was up again. "I don't have anything else; I can leave you alone now." He turned to walk out, not expecting anything else.

"Let me know if you find anything else!" called Mckay a little absently after him.

Daniel smiled to himself as he continued out into the hall. It was almost a 'thanks', or so he reckoned.

ooooooo

Neither of the parties in the infirmary spoke again as the hour passed away, even as the minutes seem to pass slower and slower. Sha're was again sitting with her legs crossed, eyes closed in some form of meditation. Jolinar was sitting by her, leaning up against the wall with legs bent in a relaxed position as she absently stared out across the room. Her mind was quiet, and as Sam had nothing to think about herself, she didn't feel like she was missing anything.

An hour passed in the unwavering artificial light of the tunnels, and Sha're adjusted herself and looked at the Tok'ra version of a clock. Ten more minutes passed, then twenty, and she grew restless. Jolinar glanced over at her, thought of the time, and began to worry herself. But it was only another five minutes before Dorin appeared in the doorway and they both rose quickly to their feet.

The Tok'ra looked a little worn, but satisfied, and she beckoned to Sha're. "I have done all in my power for your son," she said quietly. "And from all the tests, it seems to have been much. He is well and waiting for you."

"Thank you," said Sha're softly, reaching out her hand to touch Dorin.

Dorin bowed her head, and let them pass.

Sam was reminded of the first time she had seen Shifu, lying in a bed away from his mother, looking up and pondering the ceiling as he sucked his thumb. Here he was again, eyes no longer drowsy from the medication, his little legs kicking comfortably as he squirmed in his blanket.

Sha're breathed in deeply, and then moved quickly to his side, putting out a hand to caress his cheek. He turned his head to her and put out a tiny hand, and a smile wiped all her worry lines away as she scooped him into her arms and hugged him close, planting a kiss at the base of his neck. He gurgled contentedly, and Sha're spun around once, smile broadening until it took up her full face.

Sam was filled with joy inside as she watched, and though Jolinar stood back, waiting for an invitation to approach, her body relaxed and her face lit up in response to Sha're's. "He is happy," she commented.

"Oh yes, Jolinar, my baby is with me once again," said Sha're, coming over to her, her step lighter than it had been in days even with her remaining weariness. "Just look at his face—he is troubled no more, and yet he still knows me."

Jolinar smiled and put out a finger to brush a tuft of Shifu's dark hair that fell in front of his round ear. He was still too young to look at her and smile, but his head turned in her direction, his dark eyes searching even as they seemed to look past her. It was enough for Jolinar, and Sam felt her appreciation of it.

"He will be hungry, I think," said Sha're, rocking him close to her chest. "Do you mind?"

"Not at all," said Jolinar. "You should take your time."

"Yes, yes, we will be leaving," said Sha're. She looked up at Jolinar. "I am glad you were here today."

"So was I," said Jolinar, without hesitation or facade. Sam was a little surprised.

As Sha're's departing worry turned into coos and kisses, Jolinar turned from the infirmary with a satisfied sigh of her own. _*All looks well for now.*_

_~Yes, yes it does,~ _said Sam. For the moment her doubts and fears seemed superstitious, and she was in no hurry to change that opinion.

_*Did you wish for such a life?* _asked Jolinar suddenly.

_~A little, yes,~ _said Sam. _~Long ago.~_

_*You regret it, seeing her?*_

_~No, not the baby part. I'm not ready for that, not sure I ever will be. Why?~_

_*Just thinking,* _Jolinar answered, tone in agreement with her words.

Sam smiled. _~That's new.~_

_*Excuse me?*_

_~Kidding, of course; Lantash was right, you are an easy mark.~_

Jolinar snorted in response, but it was nothing more than a drop of water slipping down duck's feathers, gone in an instant and leaving no trace. They had the rest of this day and still another one before the final test; Sha're had her child to reacquaint herself with, and Jolinar and Sam had a mission to plan. Nothing to worry about.

—

Author's Notes: This early discovery of the Ancients is a change (I imagine that in canon, they never found the monument in the forest), but it won't have a huge impact on the story. Also, though in canon Sam seems interested in having children (with Joe in _2010_ and she mentions it in connection to Pete in _Affinity_), I don't think she was set on them or would consider them a goal until she was considering marriage. Especially given the upheavals in her life, in this story they're probably the furthest thing from her mind.


	33. Resolution

**Chapter 32 - Resolution**

Sam saw a visible change in Sha're as they walked across the desert, but couldn't discern the cause. It had begun after leaving Shifu in Larys' care, but became most evident as she and Jolinar ascended to the surface of the planet, walking towards where Shan'ak waited to dial the gate. And it wasn't anticipation.

To take the trip by hyperdrive to M4D-495 would take over a day, so the tel'tak had been left orbiting a planet much nearer to the destination moon. Sha're and Sam would gate to the planet, and finish the rest of the trip in only an hour. Jolinar was apprehensive, and Sam could best describe herself as nervous, but Sha're was not. Her step was light, her face beaming, and there was a light in her eyes that Sam hadn't seen for a while.

"It is here at last," she murmured as they made their final approach. Sam glanced to her, and she smiled broadly. "Oh, you cannot realize what it is like to be gone for more than a year from those you love. I have borne it for so long, and that burden is being lifted even as we walk."

Sam held in her misgivings about today's outcome, but a part of her wanted to calm Sha're, to protect her from disappointment. Then again, disappointment did not have to come; Sam wondered if that feeling came from Jolinar.

It did not take long to reach the gate.

"Good journey," said Shan'ak with a nod, as the first few symbols lit up the gate. "And a safe return."

Sam nodded to him, taking a second to wonder at how strange it was that there was a symbiote who would willingly take such a dull and repetitious role in the Tok'ra culture. Did he ever take on a mission as vacation? He wouldn't have sick-days...that was something that Sam had not quite accustomed herself to about this life, and still found herself twitching her nose as if she should have a reason to sneeze.

Sha're stepped into the event horizon before Sam and Jolinar, something that made Jolinar twitch with the security precaution violation. They followed, and Sam felt the exhilaration of gate travel once again.

"Sha're," said Jolinar, as her switch with Sam was almost at once after she thought her desire for it. "Remember, our personal shield cannot protect you if you are not within a very short distance. This world is safe, but..." She nodded towards Sha're, leaving the final words unsaid and walking towards the ring platform. A few seconds later, and they were inside the tel'tak.

_~Oh, it is small,~ _commented Sam. _~Very nice.~_

_*What is nice is that it can be upgraded with a cloaking device, rather,* _corrected Jolinar.

_~You're right,~ _answered Sam with a silent chuckle. Her apprehension didn't keep her from a sort of euphoria at the important day finally being upon them.

"Why was I not given a shield device of my own?" asked Sha're curiously.

"There are few in existence, even among the Goa'uld," said Jolinar. "What god would fear mortal weapons?"

"And do you fear them?" asked Sha're, taking the copilot's seat comfortably.

"Fear?" Jolinar started up the engine from the pilot's seat, running a last diagnostic.

"They are not Goa'uld, even, they are Sa'm's people."

"They are not mine," answered Jolinar simply.

The ship rumbled into waking, soon rising from the planet's surface to touch the stars for a second before darting into hyperspace.

ooooooo

Dixon hopped down the steps from the control room, gun in hand, to join Daniel and Teal'c by the gate. Unlike the others, he did not have his BDU jacket buttoned over the bullet-proof vests that General Hammond had ordered for SG-1 as a matter of caution. But as he also had his bandaged arm in full view, Daniel had no doubt that the jacket would be on in a second. No military man would betray his advantage and his weakness at the same time.

"Where is Colonel O'Neill?" asked Teal'c.

"Arguing with Hammond about sidearms," said Dixon. "It may be a while."

"Well, we can't leave until Janet clears Jacob anyway," said Daniel, casting a glance towards the corridor that led to the infirmary. "Wait—sidearms?"

"The Colonel thinks that sidearms give us an advantage that zats don't," said Dixon, barely refraining from an eye-roll even though his superior officer was not within hearing. "Says the Goa'uld won't have defenses primed for bullets."

"Wasn't he against bringing any weapons at the pre-mission briefing?" asked Daniel, confused.

"Yeah, but he hasn't actually changed his mind," said Dixon, slipping the jacket over his still-injured arm with no visible wince. "We can't shoot Captain Carter—Jolinar—but if there's a Jaffa ambush..."

"It is a far-reaching assumption," commented Teal'c, the traditional eyebrow rising accordingly.

"That's the Colonel," said Dixon with a shrug, and Daniel nodded. Mckay would have added some snarky comment if he had been present, but his condition was still severe enough to require constant infirmary supervision and treatment.

Jack followed Dixon's path down the stairs with much less bounce in his step, favoring his knees. The rest of the team widened their pseudo-circle to admit him, and he sighed.

"Just zats."

"Anything else you discussed, sir?" asked Dixon.

"Hammond said they scouted the moon yesterday, found nothing suspicious or strategically dangerous," said Jack. "So the only trap we'll be walking into is the obvious one." He glanced around. "Where's General Carter? The plan does kind of revolve around him."

"He hasn't been so good," said Daniel, cleaning a near-invisible speck on his glasses with a frown. "Janet's trying to get him as stable as possible."

Before Jack could answer, Daniel nodded towards the corridor, where the General was coming. Jacob did look a couple steps away from death; pale faced, with purple hollows beneath his eyes, and a conspicuous oxygen tube running from just beneath his nose to the small tank he carried in the hand not holding his walking cane.

"Do you need any help?" asked Daniel, concerned.

"No, thank you," said Jacob, as curt as ever, his steps solid even if slow as he joined them. "The oxygen is for show—if this ruse works at all, it will be the guilt and sympathy side that does it. I'm not above manipulation to save my daughter." He put the cane down once he stood with the team, adding a slight snort before he spoke. "Your doctor thinks I need that, but it will be a hindrance more than a necessity."

The team met his eyes, accepting the bluster as a distraction to his dangerously poor state.

"You have the sedative?" Dixon asked.

Jacob nodded, foregoing speech.

"We all remember the plan, right?" Jack quizzed. "Go in, distract Jolinar, make sure nothing's obviously screwed up. If it's working, Jacob comes in, knocks her out before she can adapt. That fails, the marines come in with the tranq guns and we cross our fingers and hope that this Goa'uld isn't as smart as she seems."

The team stood for a second, nothing to say for or against what had already been decided. Jacob had a slightly fierce look to his face, Daniel thought, and it matched the one in Jack's eyes. Fierce was both the right and wrong word, though; they were strongly determined to succeed, not because they saw it as just the capture of a dangerous enemy and added no feelings to the mixture, but because their deeply rooted personal biases made it so that they needed to do whatever it took to bring Sam home. Daniel might have been fooled once before by the apparently professional detachment, but if nothing else, he'd learned to read military reactions to loss in the past couple months—at least when it came to Jack.

Jack looked up to the control room where Hammond stood.

"SG-1, you have a go," came his voice over the loudspeaker.

Leaving the team of on-edge marines and Jacob Carter both, the remaining four members of SG-1 walked up the ramp and through the Stargate.

The world on the other side was not even a proper world. A smallish moon orbiting a huge gas giant, it had enough gravity to hold an atmosphere just noticeably lighter than Earth normal. There was a slight airy effect in the first couple seconds, but it was quickly dismissed for what was important. They were not the first to arrive.

The moon was bare, a rocky plain under an overcast sky, and Sam/Jolinar stood about a hundred yards off in the complete open. Nothing and nowhere to hide. She looked the same as the last time Daniel had seen her, some things achingly familiar while others disturbingly changed. Her hair was worn tightly back this time, though, giving her figure a sparse, sharp look at this distance.

All in a second, though, as the team stepped forward, Daniel saw her as she seemed to appear from behind Sam. His heart caught in his chest as the sight seemed to barrel into him with the force of a cannon. He didn't even need to look a second time. Sha're. His wife. Standing just a few feet from Sam with a smile he could see from here. He heard Jack inhale sharply to his left, and glanced quickly to him. Things were already drifting from the plan. But oh god he wasn't sure if he cared.

They all walked forward a little more quickly, coming closer to where Sam/Jolinar and Sha're stood. Daniel's mind was whirling about, remembering what Sam had told him last time about Sha're being freed and ill and pregnant, and wondering if it had been a ploy with a hint of truth. Or maybe this was Amonet he saw. Her face, though; the smile was Sha're's, surely.

"Dan'yel," she called to him, taking a step forward as they drew near, about five yards apart.

Sam/Jolinar put out a hand to hold her, caution plain on her face.

"I see you brought company," said Jack, breaking the ice.

"I can see you didn't," answered Sam without pause. "I didn't expect SG-1 to be the diplomatic mission."

"Hammond will be along shortly," said Jack.

"I can sense a Goa'uld still in Sha're, ColonelO'Neill," said Teal'c quietly.

Sam/Jolinar and Sha're glanced at each other.

"The Goa'uld is gone, my Dan'yel," Sha're said, in a voice that very nearly broke Daniel's heart to hear again. "It is only a remnant that you feel."

"Just, don't come any closer for the moment; we can't be sure of that," said Jack.

Daniel's eyes followed Sha're's as she looked to Sam/Jolinar, who nodded. Sha're kept her position, but all Daniel could see in her face was a longing to run into his arms. Was it just wishful thinking? Was Amonet playing him for a fool? He couldn't bring himself to believe it without evidence.

"So, here we are," said Sam shortly, dragging Daniel's attention reluctantly to the mission at hand. "Colonel."

"Captain," answered Jack, in the same tone. "Or is it?"

"Still unsure of that, I see," she commented, without surprise. Daniel watched her face closely, seeing what could be the Sam he knew. That was hopeful.

"No reason to be otherwise," Jack answered. "And on that note, what are you doing here?"

"You mean what's the goal?" she asked back.

"Daniel said you were trying to get a new host for your—" Jack didn't add a word. Daniel knew he wanted to say snake, or Goa'uld, but that might let their hand fall too soon. "That didn't happen."

A slightly unreadable look passed over Sam's face. "Well, things don't always go according to plan. That was why we arranged for a diplomatic meeting."

"For what?" asked Jack, playing at curiosity as he stalled for time.

"The Tok'ra have agreed to form a treaty with Earth," said Sam.

Daniel glanced at Jack. "Oh really?" was all that the Colonel said in response. Whatever they had been expecting Sam/Jolinar to try, this wasn't exactly the direction they thought it would go. Simple, to the point, and she looked dead serious.

"If Sha're is free, why didn't she return to Abydos to her family?" asked Daniel.

Jack glanced over at him with barely-hid confusion, then seemed to catch the trick in his question.

"Amonet poisoned her when the Tok'ra tried to kill her," explained Sam grimly, after a look of her own to Sha're. "She was unwell for some time after we last met. And don't you know what happened on Abydos?"

"Ah, so you know," commented Jack. Daniel knew he took that as confirmation of her involvement in the attack.

"We have been trying to make amends for that, ever since we discovered it," continued Sam, complete with a display of openness none of them expected.

Amends, repeated Daniel to himself, and the look on Jack's face confirmed that it was that word he had latched onto. A strange admission of guilt, but any admission at all struck at Daniel's heart.

"Amends?" Jack queried, almost innocent in tone.

Sam frowned, but as if to herself. "Is something wrong? Where's General Hammond?"

Avoiding the question—another confirmation of their assumptions and fears. Daniel's gaze swung back to Sha're for a moment, and he caught a crease of worry in her forehead, and a pursing of her lips. Whatever Sam had _not_ said, it was important. Could Sam/Jolinar have influenced Sha're to betray her people in some way? Or was Amonet objecting to her partner's honest admissions? Daniel felt lost in the complications. Where was Jacob?

Behind them, the Stargate made a wet noise as another figure walked through. Sam did not appear to be able to see who it was through SG-1, but something in her stance relaxed—she must assume it was General Hammond.

Looking at Jack, she asked another question. "Isn't there a Dr. Mckay on SG-1?"

Jack didn't seemed surprised by the almost detached way she worded the question, and Daniel was moving closer to his point of view with every word from her mouth. This wasn't the Sam he knew, and yet it was...just...twisted somehow. Where was her emotion upon seeing people she had once called friends, had survived almost certain death with? Why did she look to Sha're the way she had once looked to Daniel, and why did she hold herself so defensively? Why were her words crisp, and why did she seem comfortable with silence while they waited for Hammond?

"He wasn't able to make it," answered Jack after a second's pause.

If Sam added any meaning other than surprise to that pause, she didn't show it. "I would have liked to meet him," she said.

"I doubt that," answered Jack with the usual snark.

Without turning, Daniel heard Jacob's footsteps as he came up behind SG-1.

"Dad?"

Turning as Jacob came up between them, Daniel saw the look on the dying general's face, and had a terrible fear that Jacob wasn't prepared to be swift and focused enough. Daniel could only hope that he knew how even a short stall might ruin things for good.

ooooooo

Sam had been doing all the talking out loud, but Jolinar's presence had been very close to her. There was a tenseness in both of them that they couldn't seem to shake. It was strange, alien, to be so near people who did not give that unnoticed tingle of naquadah; unnoticed until missing, at least, though not for Teal'c. Sam had a moment of near panic when she didn't know her role as they waited for the true negotiations to begin—what was she going to say to them? This had to be professional, but she felt something was missing, even though she knew that something couldn't be offered until she had their trust again.

_*They are just as on edge,* _Jolinar had offered as reassurance. _*If not more so.*_

Were they? It couldn't be the same tension, though—Sam felt out of place here, especially as Jack called her by her old rank. She hadn't realized she would need to reconcile herself back into that way of thinking.

Just as she threw out a half-baked attempt at conversation, someone else came through the gate. Thank god...she was ready for this to be over. She finished up the topic as quickly as she could, waiting for the general to come up to them. With SG-1 in the way, she couldn't see where he was until they parted rank and—

"Dad?"

_~Oh my god.~_

_*Your father?*_

Sam was stricken in her place, limbs and mind frozen alike. Her dad, whom she had not seen or heard from in so many months, was here, of all places. But—god—what was wrong with him? Was he sick? He looked deathly ill in so many ways. She couldn't voice anything, and thankfully he didn't seem to expect it. He took painfully slow steps, but he crossed the invisible line to come up to her.

"Dad?" she whispered finally. He barely started to put out his arms before she wrapped her own around him in a tight embrace. "God, dad, what are you doing here?" Her eyes squeezed shut for a moment despite the tactical error, burning behind her eyelids.

"I came to bring you back home," said Jacob, pulling back and putting his hands up to clasp her face, looking deep in her eyes. "Sam, do you know how worried you've made me?"

_*Samantha,* _began Jolinar, sounding a little unsure, but breaking herself off before she could say anything else.

"It wasn't exactly my plan," Sam said with an ironic, sad laugh.

"Sam, sweetheart, I need you to come back with us now," urged Jacob, his hands slipping from her face to rest on her shoulders. "I know it's been tough for you, but we can help."

"Of course I'm coming back," Sam assured him. "Just as soon as—" She broke off abruptly when she realized that it couldn't be for a while.

"Sam, I'm not going to last that long," said Jacob, squeezing her shoulders with only a fraction of the strength he used to have. "I have cancer, and it's almost got me beat."

Sam felt a lump rise painfully in her throat. "Dad," she began, a little shaky, with nothing coming to her mind to follow it. "I—I can't just come now."

The light in Jacob's eyes faded for a second, and he closed his eyes with a sigh.

_*Samantha, there is something wrong here,* _broke in Jolinar urgently.

_~What?~ _asked Sam, confused by all the emotions that were rising to the surface.

_*Your general has not arrived, and your father...*_ She didn't have time to finish it.

In a move almost faster than Sam could see even with Jolinar's keen sight, Jacob whipped out a hypodermic needle and plunged it into her upper left arm. Jolinar wrenched control as Sam froze, and struck the needle away, breaking it in half before Jacob could inject all its contents.

A fierce look had replaced the light of desperate hope in Jacob's eyes, and he responded to the glow of Jolinar's with a hiss of rage.

As Jolinar ripped the broken needle from her arm, she looked beyond the fragile general who was no real threat. SG-1 was raising weapons, and the shimmer of the gate beyond meant only one thing.

_*Marines,* _hissed Jolinar. _*We are betrayed.*_

_~Sha're has no protection!~ _insisted Sam.

Before a weapon could be raised, Jolinar had taken a step back and roughly pushed Sha're backwards into the ring circle. Sha're gasped in shock and opened her mouth to speak, but Jolinar had pressed the button, and the rings came down and she was gone to the ship in a flash of light.

Things were happening too fast; Sam was getting lost in the confusion. Teal'c fired a zat just past Sha're as she ringed, but that was no worry. The rest of the team seemed just as ready to follow, and Sam only saw determination to take her down in their eyes. And she saw the marines running for them from the gate, guns that did not hold bullets in their hands.

_~Tranquilizers, Jolinar. The shield may not help us.~_

But even as Jolinar acknowledged the fact and was stepping towards the rings herself, they had forgotten Jacob. With all the strength left in him, he came out of their periphery and grabbed at Jolinar, gripping onto her with more strength than he seemed able to possess.

Jolinar was shocked for a moment, and indecisive on what to do.

_~Don't hurt him!~_

A tranq dart grazed her leg, and Jolinar hesitated for a moment. They didn't have another second to waste, and Jolinar suddenly pulled away and jumped backwards into the ring circle. Her symbiote strength was enough, and Jacob couldn't hold on. But just as Jolinar pressed the button that would ring them to safety, the general stumbled into the circle from the force of his hold breaking, falling heavily into Jolinar and knocking her wind out. There was a flash of light, and then they were falling with a crash onto the hard naquadah floor. Sam heard a crack, and saw stars and Sha're rushing from just out of the circle to stand above her.

ooooooo

Jack had cursed as the first rings lit, and Daniel's fear bit sharply at him as Sha're was whisked away. But even as he heard the support coming from behind, there was nothing to do. His heart sank as Sam/Jolinar escaped again, this time with Jacob as hostage.

"Damn it!" cried Jack as he ran up to the rings, marines a few seconds behind him.

"They must have had a ship," said Dixon.

"Then they will be gone in a minute at most," said Teal'c, looking up. "We have failed."

"Son of a bitch," murmured Jack, raw emotion full on his face. "We trusted that son of a bitch to do the job, and..."

"They're gone," said Daniel quietly. He didn't even know what he was saying, looking up at the sky where a ship would now be flying away with all his hopes. He didn't know what should be said.

"Sir, if that thing has a ship, it can fire on us at any moment," spoke up one of the marines with urgent worry.

"I'm not losing anyone else today," Jack turned to him, with a fierceness not directed at the marine. "Dial the gate!"

He turned back to Daniel, with a darkness in his eyes that probably mirrored Daniel's own. "We're done here," he all but whispered.

And all Daniel could do at the moment was nod, and follow him as they retreated through the gate. They could start beating themselves over it later.

ooooooo

Sam was barely breathing again after being stunned when Sha're knelt by her.

"Get me back!" she demanded frantically.

Sam was bewildered, in control as Jolinar was suddenly busy with something. Her dad was still collapsed on top of her.

"I need to go back!" Sha're continued, eyes darting.

"What?" asked Sam

"They will leave if you do not send me back down, and Dan'yel will be lost to me forever," Sha're urged. "Sa'm, I cannot work the technology on my own; you must send me."

 "They were going to shoot you!" protested Sam, her head still fuzzy, but that memory clear.

"It would only have stunned," said Sha're, her voice aching with hurry. "They will take me back, and they will see that Amonet is gone—I will be safe. Sa'm, please, hurry!"

Sam saw a horrible desperation in Sha're's eyes, as she gripped Sam's arm and begged for this. "I can't, Sha're—what about Shifu?"

Sha're jerked back, gasping.

"Sha're, we can't go back once we leave; it's now or never," Sam continued as she sat up, gently rolling her father off to one side. "It's Daniel or Shifu."

Sha're didn't move, didn't speak. She stared at Sam.

"I'm sorry," Sam whispered, the weight of her confused feelings now crushing her.

Sha're let out an agonized cry and turned away, crumpling.

"I'm so sorry," Sam whispered, as she moved closer to her, feeling her grief in this moment as her own.

"Do not speak to me." Sha're's tone was bitter and sharp, and Sam drew away.

_~Jolinar?~ _Sam reached for her symbiote, lost in her emotions. Then, out loud, "Dad?"

Jacob lay on the floor, eyes shut, breathing heavily. Sam's emotions were too much, as worry overwhelmed her grief for Sha're, and she moved to his side. "Dad, are you all right?"

_*Samantha,* _came Jolinar's voice, strangely strained.

_~What, what's wrong?~ _asked Sam, suddenly noticing an odd feeling in her limbs. Her dad lay limply on the floor, but she couldn't seem to reach out her hand to check his pulse.

_*Sedatives...couldn't...* _Jolinar didn't finish, and Sam suddenly felt a loss of connection with her.

Her mind was growing dull, her limbs heavy, and she couldn't even think to know why. Sha're was to her left, curled in on herself as she was wracked by acute grief; her own father, dying of cancer, was lifeless on the floor of the tel'tak. And the world was going dark. She didn't hear the crack as she collapsed the floor again.

—

**Author's Notes:** Jacob's ability and willingness to be manipulative for Sam's sake comes straight out of his behavior in Secrets. He wants the best for his daughter, but at this point he does not believe in her ability to make the right choice.


	34. Consequences

**Chapter 33 - Consequences**

Sam woke again to the sound of rhythmic, sobbing breaths, and she opened her eyes to see Sha're kneeling by her father. The tel'tak was still unmoving, orbiting the moon in space. But before she could make contact with Jolinar, Sam jerked upright—Sha're was giving Jacob CPR.

"Help me," called Sha're, fear in her eyes.

Sam slid across the floor, heart beating frantically.

"His heart stopped, and I cannot get it beating again," Sha're explained, voice trembling.

"How long?" Sam asked.

"A few minutes; I have not stopped," Sha're explained, wiping frustratedly at her face as Sam took over.

"No, that's still good," Sam murmured.

_*Samantha, the medical kit,* _came Jolinar's voice.

_~You're all right?~ _Sam spared a short thought as she kept her father's heart pumping blood through his body until he could do it again on his own. "Sha're, I need the supplies!"

Sha're moved swiftly to the bag, rushing over with it already open.

Jolinar took control for the moment. "Blue stripe, small clear vial, and one of the clean needles." When Sha're handed them over, she stopped the CPR for a couple seconds, quickly loaded the needle, and injected it into Jacob's neck.

_~What are you doing?~ _Sam asked.

_*If there is still enough flow to bring it to his brain, his heart should restart,* _Jolinar explained, continuing with the chest compressions and then a breath. "Wake up," she muttered below her breath, a plea disguised as an imperative. A few more compressions, though, and then Jacob jerked to life, taking in a huge gasping breath.

Jolinar put a hand to his wrist just in case. _*He is well for the moment,* _she said as she retreated to let Sam take over.

Jacob gulped in mouthfuls of air without moving, one after another.

"Dad, you okay?" Sam asked.

He reached up and gripped her upper arm with one hand. "Where are we?"

"On my ship; you kind of tagged along," said Sam, the one overwhelming worry of her mind tucked away at the sound of his voice. She had never been so sentimental in her life, especially not about her father, but...well, she didn't want to try to explain it.

"SG-1?" He tried to sit up, and she put her arms around his shoulders to assist. He seemed tense in her arms, not what she was expecting from a man who had just had a heart attack.

"There is no life left on the planet now," said Sha're in a dead tone, sitting where she had moved when Jacob began to breath again, at the control console.

"They're back on Earth, then," said Sam, without surprise but noticing that the final pronouncement seemed to hit her like a knell. "I'm sorry; you're stuck here for now."

Sha're turned back to the console quickly, letting only the back of her head show.

As Jacob took some deep, slow breaths, Jolinar made a quiet comment. _*If he has a relapse, this is not the place to take care of it.*_

"I'll be right back," Sam said aloud, looking Jacob in the eye with concern. "I need to get us on course for home." Giving his shoulder a short rub almost unconsciously as she rose, she crossed the short space to the console across from Sha're. It was nearly second thought now to punch in the proper course and get them into hyperspace, despite the fact that she had flown in Goa'uld ships only twice.

There was the usual slight jerk as they entered hyperspace, and Sam saw her father tense momentarily as she returned to his side, sitting down cross-legged. Of course, he had never been up in a ship, probably had never been off planet before today. And then again, she couldn't know for sure.

"Dad, you got security clearance," she commented, pathetically, not really knowing what to say.

He nodded, warily, a strange look on his face.

"What?" she asked, confused.

"Is there a point to the pretense?" he asked. "Jolinar, right?"

"No, this is Sam," she answered, putting out her hand to his arm and glad he didn't visibly flinch. "I—I don't know what they told you, but I promise, I can prove to you that it isn't true."

"That's going to take an awful lot of work, kid" Jacob answered, looking her straight in the eye.

Sam sat, her hand still resting on the bend in his elbow, staring into his face. "They really don't trust me anymore, do they."

"Sam, I don't know about them, but I trust you to do what you think is right," Jacob said, then pressed on. "But with that thing in your head, how can you know for sure that there's no bias?"

"Dad, I haven't done anything that could be considered wrong on anyone's scale," Sam said. "Isn't that enough?"

"You didn't lead the Goa'uld to Abydos?"

"What?" Sam started in surprise. "Of course not, that was an accident. They really thought—they saw me and then could—how could they?"

"You've got a Goa'uld in your head," Jacob said with a weak shrug.

_*Samantha, please end this before I get frustrated even further,* _Jolinar broke in, tone extremely tense.

"Dad, listen, the first thing you need to know is that Jolinar isn't a Goa'uld," said Sam. "I know what it may seem like from your side, but believe me, there's no doubt in my mind after all we've been through together."

Jacob looked at her closely, eyes piercing in a way she had somehow forgotten. "Really."

"Really," Sam answered, meeting his gaze with her sincerest look. Inside, though, she felt strange, like laughter was going to bubble out of her at any second. Crazy laughter. She had her dad here, alive and caring about her, but on the verge of death. She had seen her old friends again, but they had treated her like the enemy. Her heart was cracking, and she was afraid that if she dropped focus just for a second, it would break.

Jacob closed his eyes, hand to his heart and grimace on his face, breaths coming slowly.

"Dad?" Sam asked, putting out her hand.

He shook his head, breathing out. "I'm not doing so well."

_*His oxygen supplement?* _Jolinar asked.

"You left your oxygen on the planet," Sam said, suddenly remembering.

Jacob shook his head. "Just for show," he said in a near whisper.

Sam didn't say anything, understanding what that remark meant, and yet—

_*I am sorry that my fears were so realized,* _Jolinar said quietly.

Sam didn't have the words.

Jolinar, however, did, and she took control. "General Carter," she said, and Sam watched as her dad jerked and opened his eyes. "I have no way of knowing what you expected to happen at this meeting, but I will not apologize now for demanding that you explain your behavior. Believe me, your daughter conveyed a much more respectable view of your world's behavior."

_~Careful, he's not well,~ _Sam put in.

"You are Jolinar, then," said Jacob, giving her a sharp eye.

"And as far as you should have been concerned, I was a delegate of a possible ally," said Jolinar, sitting straighter than Sam had. "Enemy at worst, but still a figure of diplomatic immunity."

"You were a hostage-taker," began Jacob, withdrawing his arm from where her hand absently still rested on it. "And we couldn't know if there had been brainwashing involved; we had to think of those options first."

"And if your daughter had been telling the truth?" continued Jolinar, not breaking her eye contact.

"Given the evidence, that didn't seem likely," Jacob answered honestly, holding the gaze.

Sam felt a pang, and didn't bother suppressing it.

"Then believe me, you have a much more difficult task ahead of you than I in re-earning trust," finished Jolinar in a hard tone.

_~Thanks, Jolinar, but I think I can handle it from here,~ _Sam broke in. "Hey," she said aloud.

"Sam?" Jacob asked, looking confused. "Was she—did she berate me?"

Sam smiled painfully. "I think so, Dad. We're…good friends now."

Jacob dipped his head, taking a moment. Then he looked up. "You're serious."

She laughed bitterly. "Yes, yes I am." When he didn't answer, she continued, a little desperate. "Here, let's get you some support." She moved him up to the divider so he could lean back against the wall, and so she could sit next to him.

There was a moment of silence, and Sam noticed stiffness in his body, his face resolutely looking straight ahead.

"Dad, talk to me," she urged quietly.

"Sam, you need to snap out of this," he said, turning to her with a worry-ravaged face. "You don't even realize what you're doing anymore. Look at yourself!"

"Don't say that," she answered. "You can't understand yet."

"There is no yet for me," he answered firmly, harshly. "And Sam, I'm not going without a fight. I just don't know if you can understand that."

Sam looked up to his eyes. "I think I do," she said, and it came out more brokenly than she had planned.

His face was so close that she could see every scar of time and illness, eyes meeting hers and the harshness fading from them as he held her gaze. Then, in a tone that held little emotion: "If it's any comfort, I don't think you're a ruse of Jolinar's."

"But what, I'm not me?" she asked, recalling Daniel's words all too clearly.

"I can't know that yet." There was a hesitation in his eyes, and then he glanced away, lowering his head.

The lump in Sam's throat was too big for her to speak, so she just reached out for his hand to squeeze it. He didn't jerk away.

"But," he added, breaking the silence. "You aren't giving me many options." He looked back at her. "If Jolinar's plan was to fool you into getting her into the SGC, she failed miserably. No point in continuing now."

The words cut into Sam as a confirmation of one of her fears.

"But you're still here; that means something, I just don't know what." Jacob winced and sighed, leaning his head against the wall.

And Sam just looked at him. Her heart was deeply wounded by the betrayal of today, but for some reason she couldn't include him in it; instead, her grief at what was to come mingled with the comfort she received just from his presence and from his acknowledgment of her existence apart from Jolinar. It was something she hadn't received enough lately.

In a move she didn't think about before doing, she leaned her head to rest on his shoulder with a weary sigh. A part of her heart started to heal as she heard him exhale, and it was a welcome surprise when she felt his soft kiss to her hair before he leaned his head on hers so that she rested in the crook of his neck. Whatever he thought, she was still his Sam. And so they sat, silent, hurt, weary, a distance between them and the still form of Sha're seated at the console.

ooooooo

Daniel's grief and frustration had built up on the way to the briefing room, running over the irreversible facts that had happened all in a couple minutes. But the only thing his mind would tell him at first was: they're gone forever. Whoever they really were, you'll never know for sure now.

Just like after Abydos, he sat in silence at the table and Jack related what had happened. Hammond didn't burst forth in rage this time, just sat, the stricken look on his face eating into Daniel's heart. He had lost one of his best friends, just as Daniel had lost both a friend and a wife.

"They ringed up to a ship of some kind," Jack finished. "And we retreated back to the gate, not sure if they were going to fire or not."

And at that, Daniel felt his frustration swell into something more like anger. For a second, he didn't even know why.

"So Jacob's in the hands of the enemy, and we have no idea where they are," said Hammond, tone free of all life.

"They weren't the enemy," said Daniel, not looking at any of them.

"Doctor Jackson?" Hammond asked.

"Were you even watching?" Daniel asked, this time looking straight at Jack. "Were you paying attention at all?" 

"Daniel," Jack said in a slight growl.

But Daniel's emotions had got the best of him, and he didn't even care this time. "If that had been Goa'ulds we saw, they would have ringed down Jaffa, not vanished with a look of horror. Fear and betrayal—those weren't Goa'uld emotions, Jack, and you know it."

"You think that, do you?" pushed Jack, his stance aggressive as he looked towards Daniel.

"Yes, I do," said Daniel fiercely. "Because I wasn't completely set on that it was a ruse from the start. I was ready to let the evidence speak for itself."

"The evidence that Jolinar was up to no good?" Jack countered.

"It was conflicting at best!" Daniel pushed back. "Jack, if nothing else, I saw Sha're there. Maybe it was Jolinar that pushed her into the rings, but it was Sha're's panic I saw. And—and—" His hand was left hanging in the air as he lost his words.

"Gentlemen, that's enough," said Hammond.

"Sir, Jackson's right about one thing," said Dixon, brow creased. "They acted like they were panicked, not like their grand plan had just not worked."

"Because they never had one," Daniel couldn't resist saying. The grief-turned-anger was burning through him, taking his restraints as it went.

"We couldn't know that!" said Jack, protesting strongly. "Don't you hear what you're saying? We had to operate under an assumption. What if she had stabbed the general instead of taking him with the rings?"

"It's not about what could have happened, Jack," said Daniel. "That doesn't matter anymore. What matters is we've lost our last chance."

"You don't know that," answered Jack, but Daniel looked up at him and saw the lack of conviction in his eyes.

"Believe me, Doctor Jackson, no one regrets that more than I do," said General Hammond quietly.

Jack remained silent, stewing away at some emotion that Daniel couldn't read.

"Take some rest, gentlemen; we all need it before we do anything else," finished Hammond with a sigh. He rose with a long sigh.

"Daniel, no one meant for it to go down like this," said Jack quietly, an attempt at mollification.

"No, you meant to capture them and bring them back as prisoners of war," answered Daniel, keeping his tone just as low. "And if they clammed up, shocked by the—the betrayal, you would have read it as guilt and not heard another word. That's what nearly happened this time, the only change is that we know it."

"You agreed to this, remember?" Jack continued, a hint of frustration in his weary tone. "Don't act like you knew it all along; we all screwed up."

"Well at least we recognize that now," shot back Daniel. And then there was nothing. He sighed, overwhelmed, and muttered as he rose to leave, "Hammond's right."

Shoulders hunched as he tried to contain all his emotions, Daniel walked to the elevator, intending to wear out his emotions alone. It was empty, and he was relieved. He didn't want to see anyone right now.

"Jackson! Jackson!" Dixon's clipped tones came after him, and Daniel turned to see him hurrying down the hall.

Daniel could have closed the door, but he didn't, and Dixon made it in the elevator before it closed on its own.

"Jackson, what the hell are you trying to do," said Dixon in a low tone, arms crossed.

Daniel looked up, surprised.

"Are you going to act like you don't know what you're on about?" Dixon continued, standing unnecessarily close to Daniel's personal space and looking down at him. "That since you're a civilian, you can blame the military as loud as you want? Beat us up because you never had to make the choice?"

"Well that's an oversimplification," snorted Daniel, not backing into the ample space in the elevator as it began to move.

"I'm not kidding, Jackson," said Dixon. "That was questionable as a professional, but why the hell did you make it personal like that?"

That, Daniel could answer. "Because he doesn't seem to realize exactly what he did. Before Quetesh attacked Abydos, we were just going to be cautious. It was his—his bitterness and pessimism that got everyone seeing the worst of the situation."

"And instead of asking the Colonel if he regretted it, you attacked him in front of superiors and inferiors, and forced him to defend himself," said Dixon shortly. "God, Jackson, how'd that tactic come from a brain like yours?"

Daniel stepped back, swallowing his shock. Had he let things go too far? That far?

"I didn't come after you just to beat you over the head," Dixon admitted. "Truth is—I think I get it. Your wife. You've lost her and it wasn't your fault, so it had to be somebody's 'cause you can't accept that it was an accident."

Daniel felt his frustration flare again, but he bit it down.

"Well don't do it," said Dixon. "Just don't."

"I can't—I may never even get to say goodbye," said Daniel, hand gripping the elevator railing. It had stopped, and the elevator doors had opened and closed again without movement from either of the two men.

"And it isn't his fault," said Dixon. "I don't care what evidence you think you have, it isn't enough." He leaned back, sighing, absently scratching the side of his head. "It's a screwed up business, Jackson."

Daniel didn't say anything, didn't look up him.

Dixon hmmed, pushed the button, and walked out, heading for the staircase.

The elevator was too bright, too empty, and Daniel pushed the button just as the doors were closing. His mind wasn't letting the anger stay, but nothing was there to take its place and soon he started to feel an empty despair again as he walked. His lab was dark and dusty, the only comfort he could take, and he quietly shut the door and didn't turn on the light. Walking over to the far shelf, he fumbled around until he found the box of matches he kept, and lit the incense candle. Then he sunk into his chair and leaned his head on the table, burying it in his arms.

This was worse, this was so much worse than when he had first lost Sha're. Because all he could remember was that they had defeated Ra once—how could Apophis be worse? Well, now he knew. And it wasn't that Apophis was so much worse, it was that he was just the tip of the iceberg. Daniel had absolutely no idea where Sha're could be now, and he was only certain about one thing; she thought he didn't trust her. And if Sam had been honest, this Sam who blocked Sha're with her own body when it came to a fight, Sha're would never return to him.

There was a soft rap at the door, and Daniel looked up. He weighed his options, and then decided that even Jack probably couldn't get a reaction out of him now. "Come in."

Light flooded through the door, making Daniel blink before he recognized Teal'c.

"Are you well, DanielJackson?"

A single spasm of laughter went through Daniel, giving him an aching pain. "No, Teal'c," he said, putting up a hand to wipe a random wetness from his eye. Sighing, he continued. "Are you here to point out how idiotic I was?"

"I do not believe you need my help for that," said Teal'c quietly.

Daniel groaned. "No, you're right about that."

"Perhaps tonight you should not return to your home," Teal'c said, standing as he usually did with hands loosely clasped behind his back.

Daniel's mind flashed to his home, to the bed that was always half-empty as a reminder of what he was working towards. "Mm," he acknowledged. Sitting up, he gestured to Teal'c. "You can turn on the light."

"There is no need," said Teal'c. "Your heart is troubled, DanielJackson, as is mine. As I cannot leave this base, perhaps you would wish to join me in kel'no'reem."

Daniel looked up. "Thanks for the offer, but I'm not sure I can calm my mind to meditate just yet."

"Calm is not needed in the beginning; emptiness will do." Teal'c had not moved, and his tone had not changed, but Daniel felt urging from him. "Is it not said on your world, let not the sun go down on your anger?"

"I'm not angry anymore," Daniel murmured, as he thought over what Teal'c said. Then he heard what he just said, and looked up. Teal'c had caught it too; not all anger was hot. "It can't hurt, right?"

"Indeed," said Teal'c, a barely visible relaxation coming over his features. "As soon as you are ready, then." And with a bow, he left Daniel's room, leaving the door cracked open behind him.

All Daniel's emotion seemed to have settled into a lump in his stomach, a heavy weight as he stood. He rubbed a hand through his hair, stretching a little, not sure why exactly he was going to join Teal'c. The Jaffa had been an unusual ally and friend, but they hadn't been the closest. Dixon had had a reason to sympathize with Daniel and approach him, but why would Teal'c offer and why would Daniel accept such a thing as this? But Daniel then shook his head, realizing just how dull his mind had gone. Teal'c was the one who had taken Sha're from him in the first place, and even if Daniel had forgotten Teal'c had not. If Daniel could be so bitter to Jack for a suggestion alone... Teal'c was asking for a confirmation of the implicit forgiveness Daniel had given him from the beginning. And Daniel had chosen to confirm it.

The lump began rising towards Daniel's throat as he blew out his candle, breathing in the last of its soothing Abydonian scent before closing the door on his dark office and walking into the bright hall. He had forgotten one very important thing when he lashed out at the briefing; this was his team. Jack, Teal'c, Dixon, even Mckay stuck in the infirmary. He didn't really deserve them, but he needed to keep them. For their sake and for his.

And besides, meditation could hardly make the situation worse. Daniel would have thought nothing could do that, but he didn't want to offer the universe a challenge.

—

**Author's Notes:** Sha're learned CPR from Daniel, since that would be a useful skill and easy to learn. Also, Daniel's reactions here are based on how he acts in episodes like "Forever in a Day" and "Menace". He's generally calm and compassionate, but canon shows that he can get bitter and angry.


	35. Movement

**Chapter 34 - Movement**

By Sam's reckoning they were only a few minutes from dropping from hyperspace when Jolinar broke the silence.

_*Samantha, before we get back, may we discuss what happened?*_

Sam eyes snapped open from where she had been resting, having almost forgotten for a second that Jolinar was there and might be feeling something different. _~Yes, I suppose,~ _she sighed, closing her eyes but not moving from where she still sat leaning up against her father.

_*I am worried about Sha're.*_

Yet another point that Sam had almost forgotten. _~Surely she must realize that we did it for her own good.~_

Jolinar sighed. _*I do not think so. Whatever happened, there would have been much grief for her, but since we made the final choice for her, I believe her bitterness will be strong towards us.*_

Sam had no rebuttal at hand, and felt the weight of all that had happened press more urgently on her. _~Jolinar, I really don't feel like talking about this.~_

_*I know, but what will you say when we report to the Council? To even neutral eyes it looks like we kidnapped yet another person of your world, with no ready way to get him back and make amends.*_

Sam gritted her teeth. _~All right, you're not wrong; we need to talk about it. They're not going to be happy, are they?~_

_*Not in the least,* _said Jolinar. _*Although, your father's apparent level of understanding may soon rise to be on level with yours when you first spoke to them; perhaps he can soothe their reaction.*_

_~You don't understand,~ _Sam answered. _~My dad...he's going to have to go straight to the infirmary, and there's a chance that he may not make it through the night. That's how bad this is.~_

Jolinar paused. _*I am sorry, I did not realize.*_

_~I'm just hoping that your healing devices can help with cancer.~_

There was no answer from Jolinar, but Sam couldn't guess what it meant.

_*You never spoke much of your family before; I did not realize how you felt about them,* _Jolinar said. _*It was a shock to feel your reaction today.*_

_~I guess that is a big landslide of information,~ _Sam acknowledged. _~Dad and I used to be close after my Mom died, but when I went into classified work, it became harder and harder to see him. With the Stargate program...well, he didn't really believe the cover story, so I avoided making him think about it. I think he might have thought that I had started to agree with Mark.~_

_*Your brother?* _Jolinar guessed from the tone of her thoughts.

_~Yes, but Dad doesn't talk to him and he doesn't talk to Dad, and I'm considered on the watch list with him because I do.~_

_*Hmm.*_

_~I guess it means more to Dad than I thought, if he was this adamant about getting to me before, before it was too late,~ _Sam continued, finding some catharsis even in the uncomfortable thoughts. _~Although I've never seen him this out of things, not vying for control. It's like he had no idea what he was in for.~_

_*Would any one of your team?* _

_~No, I guess not. This isn't the sort of thing they get briefed for; I'm probably lucky Dad could be focused at all in this situation. I just wish...never mind.~_

_*No secrets, Samantha. If I am to know this man, I need to know where he's coming from.*_

_~That's not what I meant,~ _Sam said reluctantly. _~I meant that I wish, foolishly maybe, that the people I thought were becoming my family had been that...really, it is a 'never mind' kind of thought.~_

_*It is not,* _Jolinar answered firmly. _*Your team abandoned you; acknowledge it.*_

Sam felt like she should have been more outraged at that, but the most she could muster was some discomfort. _~I don't think they thought about it that way.~_

_*That is the point. They trusted you when they had no reason to do otherwise. That is normal. But when it became doubtful, where did that trust go?*_

Sam's jaw stiffened. ~_Daniel wasn't ready to believe me on Abydos, but he made it seem like he would try if I brought more proof. Except that wasn't it at all; they made up their minds and didn't even give us a chance. Damn, Jolinar, how could they betray me like that? How could Daniel? I'm trying to see it from his side, but I just can't.~ _Sam felt her stomach clench up even as she thought she was calming her emotions down.

_*I'm sorry.* _It was all she had to offer, and Sam felt a wave of sympathy flow from her, trying to fill the void in Sam's mind before her grief and resentment did. She hadn't done anything like this before; it made Sam almost feel a little guilty for affecting her like this. But it felt so warm, and Sam couldn't help but reach for it and hold on tightly. And Jolinar didn't hold back.

There was a moment of silence, good silence, needed silence.

_~Thanks.~ _Sam didn't say for what, knowing that if she tried to verbalize the whys it would sound silly and cliche. She hoped Jolinar would take it the same way.

And she did. The silence remained, but it did not return to the terrible emptiness.

Sam felt her thoughts wandering around in circles, and just as they were forming coherency, one came almost unbidden and was vocal before she had time to consider it. _~I don't know if I could have made it through these months sane without you.~ _The surprise on both sides was immediately evident, and she rushed in to try to fix the sappiness. _~Even when I've wanted to rip you from my head and run far away, I knew would have been literally lost and alone, and I don't know if I could ever bear that. To have someone, anyone...it's something I needed and I didn't even know it.~_

Again, words didn't wrap up all the loose threads.

_*Thank you.*_

Sam had the feeling that she was supposed to infer all the meanings that Jolinar couldn't express, and this time she didn't mind the symbiote's brevity. It worked.

There was another jerk as the ship dropped from hyperspace. Sam and Jacob tensed, and then Sam slipped out from under his arm, the task at hand becoming foremost in her mind again.

"I have to land the ship; we're going through a gate to the Tok'ra home," she said, standing up.

_~So, our explanation?~_

_*He was left behind and in need of immediate assistance. If he does not see the coordinates, they will have no right to object.*_

Sam nodded, hands and mind working together to navigate through the burn of atmosphere to gently float to the planet's surface. Sha're sat across from her, half turned to face the wall of the ship and looking out the window. Sam couldn't see her face, but Jolinar read her body posture—anger. From grief, bitterness, frustration, all to the max; but guilt for it wrapped around Sam's heart and locked into place.

The ship landed, and Sam shut down the engines. "Sha're, we're here," she said quietly, standing up to head back to help her father.

Jacob looked worn out from all the effort of the day, and even though with Jolinar's help he wasn't too much of a burden, Sam could feel how little strength he put forth. It was a short distance to the Stargate, and Sam made sure that he wasn't watching as she dialed. The gate opened, and Sha're went swiftly first, not looking back to see when Sam was to follow.

Sam took a deep breath as her eyes rested on the ripple where Sha're had gone. _~Help me forget for now,~ _she said, not fully aware that it was loud enough for Jolinar to hear.

Jacob was the one she could help, and she would; she walked through.

ooooooo

Jack was not going to apologize to Daniel. Not never, just not for this. He was going to walk down to the locker room, take a quick shower to clear his head, and then take his stuff and leave.

But damn... Just damn... It had not been a good day.

Sha're had been connected to his earliest experience at this job, so it wasn't like her loss didn't hurt him; Sam—well, Sam had been his pride and joy. She got under his skin in a good way like no other officer ever had, spinning his world and its definitions on its head and making him frustrated and awed all at the same time. They were good together, a colonel and his second, and there was always that soldier bond. And not just that—Dixon was a good officer too, and they'd already been through some hell together—but Jack achingly missed Sam's active optimism, her enthusiasm, her dedication. The smiles and the laughs, the capability for hijinks he never would have discovered if not for the wonders of off-world intoxication, the way her insane techno-talk sounded so good to him, heck, the way she could bridge that yawning gap between his mind and Daniel's when they were without a clue.

But he wasn't going to think about that. It wasn't about to enter his mind that he might have made the wrong bed to lie in. He was a heartless bastard, of course; it hadn't cost him anything to make the choice. Just flip a coin—do I trust her or not? Damn Daniel, damn Daniel and his self-righteous attitude that said if you didn't fly your emotional flag you must not have one. He wasn't going to think about that.

The shower felt good, oh so good, and he wasted the hot water with the careless abandon he was supposed to possess. The steam didn't fill the locker room, but it was warm enough anyway. He glanced in the mirror as he dried off, and saw water running down the small wrinkles waiting in the corners of his eyes and mouth. He was old, god, how old he looked. Even wet, he could see the grey in his temples—no, almost white. It was taking him over, and if Daniel or Sam chose to use their scientist eyes to look closely, they'd find their signatures on those invasive silver patches. He wasn't born old, he had been made old.

And he didn't know what to do next. He wasn't sure now if he had ever known. Maybe he and Sam had just floated along, letting Daniel and Teal'c's quests and Hammond's orders lead the way. Sure, it was all about exploring the galaxy, defeating the Goa'uld...that didn't keep a man going, though. He didn't have a Sha're, he didn't have a Jaffa rebellion, he didn't have a curiosity or an ego either. He didn't even have a family at home, a Clara, James, Bobby, or an Abby. He was just a shell, filled with whatever the missions required of him.

Bitterness flooded his mouth, not leaving even as he swallowed with a grimace. What was he doing here, anyway? There were two meanings to that question, and he meant them both but had no answer now. Glaring at the mirror that so baldly revealed his age, he slapped his clothes back on and marched out of the locker room, running his fingers once through his wet hair. With his knees still a terror to him, he found himself taking the elevator, face wearing a scowl as he pushed a floor button a few times.

It didn't take long to hit him, smack him upside the face as if to say 'you already figured this out before; now don't forget it again'. Well, this time his mind might be right. He knew why he was here, why he pushed himself to the limits for an expedition he wasn't obsessed with. It was the only thing he had after all—apart from a closely protected sense of humor—his team. This team. These people. Even that goddamned Mckay with his ego and strange sense of bravery, the one Jack couldn't qualify. Jack hurt for his team, he'd die for them, but he wouldn't let them leave if he could help it. And it didn't matter what they thought of him, as long as he did what he had to do to make sure they had the freedom to think it.

He could tell himself that all day. All day, until he was standing outside Daniel's door with an absent look on his face. Damn, why had he gone to Daniel's floor? He wasn't here to apologize, he wasn't here to explain, he just wasn't.

"Teal'c, is that you? I'll be there in a minute." Well, there went his plans for avoiding Daniel. And those had been his plans, right?

"Oh." There was Daniel, blinking behind his fishy glasses, and Jack was no genius but he saw the slight fall in that face. "Jack."

"Daniel." Don't ask why I'm here.

"What are you doing here?"

Hearing's shot as much as his eyesight. Still, the tone was neutral, true neutral and not full of hidden...emotions and stuff. "Just wanted you to know—" He didn't know where the words came from, and his mouth sagged as he scrambled for the ones to finish the sentence. And Daniel just looked at him, face blank. "We haven't given up on them."

Daniel blinked. He did that too much, it was annoying. And for once, Jack found his silence annoying too. But then he nodded. "I know," he said, quietly. And nodded again.

Know what? Jack wanted to ask. Daniel pressed his lips together, and walked past Jack. His blank look had disappeared, and all Jack had noticed was that it hadn't been replaced by bitterness, anger, hate, or frustration. Daniel walked down the hall towards whatever he was going to do.

And Jack realized it a moment later, that he had done exactly what he didn't want to do. He'd let his voice, his body, his face, betray what his mind would not let him think. He had apologized. And Daniel, calmed down somehow from his resentment, had answered in like kind. He wouldn't go as far as Jack had, apparently, but Jack thought he caught the hint that he might, someday.

Well, now that he was done with the apology he would never ever have given, he might as well go home. It would be alone tonight, as with all nights, but tomorrow he'd be back with his team. Living with them. Dying for them, maybe, but hopefully not. Damn, he hoped not. It would suck, it really would. But he would do it.

ooooooo

Another day, Sam would have chocked up her lack of care about the Tok'ra Council's reaction to Jolinar's influence. This day, she didn't care about that either. After a short, "They assumed we were Goa'uld, and reacted with that in mind; this man was left behind and needs urgent attention," from Jolinar, they were swiftly allowed free rein for the moment. No comment, no emotion on the Council's faces other than that they might have expected the outcome. Larys was alerted by communicator and was ready by the time Jolinar and Shan'ak brought Jacob in. Weak, unmoving, and barely even conscious after all the effort, Jacob was laid out on the bench as Sam explained his illness.

"I am not sure what I can do for such extensive damage with only this," Larys said, worriedly, but held the healing device firmly in his hand.

Sam nodded, biting her lip. As Larys moved in to work, she couldn't help but watch. _~You have no sarcophagus...no, wait, Tok'ra don't use them, do they. Why?~_

_*The destruction of the kalmach is too high a price.*_

The soul, Sam somehow knew. _~Even once?~_

_*Too great a temptation.*_

They were reasonable words, part of Sam's mind thought, but it had to do war with the rest of her. It was easy to try to hold back personal emotions, but not to succeed in that task. Larys' face was distorted in his extreme focus, and her father spasmed under the influence. It hurt to watch. Sam trusted the Tok'ra doctor, but she knelt by her father's side anyway, holding his hand and bowing her head to hope for the best.

She lost track of time and consciousness for an unknown number of moments, and only when Jacob exhaled loudly did her head jerk up. Raising her head, she thought she saw a little improvement in him, but Larys wasn't standing there anymore. A hand fell on her shoulder, and she looked up and behind.

 "I have never dealt with a case as advanced as this," Larys said in a low tone, indicating that she should stand. "I have given him a chance for now, though." As Sam stood, he tipped his head to one side, and Sam followed him a few steps away.

"So he's going to be all right?" Sam asked.

"Yes and no, Samantha," Larys said, his face looking aged beyond human years. "I am so sorry. This device cannot repair everything."

"What do you mean?" Sam asked, gripping his arm and glancing back with sudden worry.

 "No, he will not suddenly die," Larys assured, waiting for her to look back at him. "But it is for a few days only; soon his body will be failing again."

"You can heal him again, though?" Sam asked in confusion.

"It will be worse every time. I cannot change that," said Larys. "The next time, he will only last a couple days; maybe a day after the next treatment, and then I will only be able to postpone a few hours."

Sam's heart fell sharply.

"He is dear to you?" Larys asked, letting his other hand rest on hers.

"My father," she said, nodding.

Larys gave her a straight look. "Then you must understand, there is only one sure way of saving him."

Sam knew what that meant, and let her lungs empty out in a short breath. "Become a Tok'ra."

"Selmak is dying; it might save them both," Larys said. "If, of course..."

Sam shook her head, withdrawing her arms and hugging her own chest. "I don't know, I can't tell."

Larys looked at her closely, grim-faced. "Your world is so closed to us, then?"

"Yes," said Sam. "I had forgotten, but now I know. I just hope, now that he's here..."

"Let me know." And with a short nod, Larys returned to whatever else he had to do.

_~Jol, this wasn't supposed to happen,~ _Sam said, even her inner voice on the edge of breaking.

_*What should I say?* _Jolinar answered. _*He is not dead, and for that we can both be glad.*_

_~But to be a Tok'ra? To choose it? You don't know my dad; he's stubborn when it comes to beliefs he holds close. He's independent. I don't think he could give that up.~_

_*He doesn't sound too unlike a near relation of his,* _Jolinar said dryly, but without even a sense of humor.

_~So what, you don't see an issue with it?~ _Sam asked. _~He's my dad, Jolinar. Even if he did agree, would he be happy?~_

_*If he has been thoroughly brainwashed, perhaps not. But if he is not sure, it will not go that far. Why are you tormenting your mind with this?*_

_~Because I didn't expect this,~ _Sam answered, a little sharply. _~And it's not like it's ideal, he wasn't supposed to have to make that choice. Can't you see that?~_

_*I feel your sorrow, but I do not understand it,* _Jolinar answered, not softening. _*He lived a good life, and he may live another one. Or he may not, but you will have him for a few days to give your farewells. That is more than many others have received. You are tired, Samantha, and not thinking clearly. This is not the time—*_

"Sam?" Even that quiet a voice had all Sam's attention in less than a second.

"Dad," she answered, coming to stand by him.

Grimacing, Jacob sat up on the bench, shaking his head. "What happened? Where are we? Why do I—what do I feel?"

"Hopefully better," Sam said, trying to put on a smile. "We're on the Tok'ra base now. They have technology here that can slow the cancer down for a while." She stood still, gauging his reaction.

Jacob rested his hands on his knees as they hung off the edge of the bench, his face not displaying any one emotion. "His voice..."

"Larys is a Tok'ra," Sam confirmed.

"He healed me...for a while?" There was a flash of bewilderment on Jacob's face, and then it disappeared into nothingness.

Sam nodded, feelings all twisting around each other in her gut and Jolinar not helping at the moment.

Then Jacob looked up and caught the expression on her face, and suddenly his unreadable face was replaced by one Sam only barely remembered, so straightforward the emotion was. "Come here," he murmured, and Sam was in his arms in a moment, gripping him tightly. "I'm so sorry, kid, I didn't want to do this to you," he said.

"Same here," she answered, tears leaking out despite all her control.

"I don't know what is going on here," he said. And as she shifted in his arms to sit next to him, looking in his eyes for confirmation, they were clear and open. "But, this is you."

Sam kept her arm around him, trying to soak up all his embrace while she could. Before she could miss it again.

"I don't know that other thing in your head," he added, giving her a firm nod. "And I'm not giving it any free chances. But if it's been this long and I can still recognize some of you...what do I think?"

Despite the strength that had been newly returned to him, Sam felt the weary resignation in his voice. How long had it been growing? Would it be irreversible? Could he choose life, even this life that must be so strange? But wait...

_~Did you hear that?~_

_*I did indeed.*_

"Jolinar says thanks, I think," Sam said aloud, the hint of a smile coming to her face for a second, only to be driven away. "But Dad, this healing isn't...it's not permanent."

"I got that," he answered. "It's not a new prospect anymore."

"What if it was—permanent, not a familiar prospect," Sam answered.

_*Now, Samantha?* _Sam didn't answer the question.

Jacob frowned.

"You know, with Jolinar in here, I've never had even a cold," Sam tried to explain, feeling that she was failing pathetically as the second word came out. "To the Tok'ra, cancer's just another disease...they can do more than their medicine can."

Jacob tensed for a second, but his arms still held her. "You mean, let a—let it come inside me and cure my cancer?" His words were a little jerky.

"Well, it wouldn't be just that," Sam admitted, reluctantly. "The Tok'ra aren't a cure like the device. Either you choose to be with them or not, they can't just fix the cancer and leave."

"So I need to be a Goa'uld to live?" Jacob asked, voice hushed in his astonishment.

Jolinar flinched. "Not Goa'uld," Sam corrected, closing her eyes for a second.

"That's it?" Jacob answered. "That's my only option?"

 "You don't have to; it's your choice," said Sam, heart starting to ache again. "They won't force you. But Dad, they can't live without us, and...and you can't live without them." _~And I don't want to live without you.~_

He looked at her, and for the first time today let show how overwhelmed he was, beaten down finally by all the strange turns of events. "I need to sleep," he muttered, glancing down and putting up a hand to rub his eyes.

Sam nodded, forcing herself to accept the reality that it wasn't going to be easy any way. "There's some beds over here. Jolinar's trying to hint to me about rest too, I think."

She stood, and he slowly rose after her, joints still slow. Larys had a bed all prepared, though he was no longer in sight, and Jacob sunk gladly into it. Sam was ready to leave without another word, sleep off all her babbling words and emotions once and for all. But he reached out to grab her hand as she turned.

"I don't want to die," he said firmly. "Don't think that."

"I know," she answered. "Would you—tomorrow, maybe, could you talk to Selmak, the symbiote who really needs you? You don't need to decide anything, just talk, get to know each other."

He nodded slightly, to her relief. "I may be an old general, Sam, but I know when I'm out of my element; I need to catch my bearing."

She gave him a weak smile. "Selmak's no spring chicken either; you'll have that in common at least."

He gave her an odd look; the only look anyone could give, Sam understood, when their whole world was knocked from under them and this weirdness replaced it. He'd have to learn quickly, but so had she. And she knew that that strength was her heritage.

Leaving the infirmary, not reluctantly, Sam felt all the weariness she had been pushing back and ignoring.

_~How did we get like this, Jolinar? Why didn't I notice?~_

_*There have been distractions,* _Jolinar said simply.

_~I hate feeling like this, all lost. Isn't there a way to just turn it all off for a while?~_

_*You cannot know how many times I have looked for it,* _Jolinar answered, all her own emotion in the one short sentence.

_~I'm sorry, I haven't been the best companion today,~ _Sam answered. _~You're amazing, you know that? You survive.~_

_*So will you,* _Jolinar said firmly. _*Whatever you feel, don't add guilt to it. I will be here for you when you find yourself again.*_

Sam thought her thanks silently as they arrived at their chamber. She didn't remember the exact steps to get into bed, but her last memory was the dark crystal ceiling before sleep finally claimed her.

—

**Author's Notes**: If Jacob's dialogue felt a little confusing, that was the intention.


	36. Needs

**Chapter 35 - Needs**

Waking was a mixture of good and bad for Sam the next morning. It was not too early and she had slept well, feeling physically whole and strong. But the instant she tried to assess her mental state, she felt only foggy, muddied emotions still. It was as if the cauldron of yesterday had merely congealed overnight, not evaporated like she had planned.

_~That failed,~ _she sighed, not in private because Jolinar wasn't awake to hear.

Even so, Jolinar began to stir, and Sam wasn't ready for her. She wasn't ready for anybody; her father didn't quite trust the Tok'ra, the Tok'ra didn't quite trust her people, and she was caught somewhere in between with no neutral ally. Then her symbiote sighed and Sam had a reluctant curiosity. _~Something wrong?~_

_*Only yesterday's troubles,* _Jolinar answered, murmuring.

_~You didn't sound very upset yesterday,~ _Sam said in an almost thoughtless remark.

Jolinar snorted.

It was ambiguous, but Sam took it as a reminder that Jolinar didn't always express herself openly. Leaving that alone, she sat up in bed and exhaled slowly, wondering how she was going to explain everything to those who would want to know when she didn't even understand it herself. And she would have to explain, that was a given.

_*I cannot take this anymore.*_

Sam stopped moving, Jolinar's voice coming to her as if from out of the blue. _~What?~_

_*I hoped that sleep would clear your mind—*_

_~Join the club,~ _Sam put in, confused nonetheless.

_*—but as it has not, this must stop. Now.*_

_~What on earth are you talking about?~ _Sam asked.

_*I am not going to sit by and silently take another day of your close-minded prejudice and emotional blackmail.*_

Sam decided immediately that she wasn't going to continue whatever this conversation was like this, and stood up and marched over to the wardrobe. _~What the hell, Jol?~_

The symbiote took a moment, but Sam had annoyance and confusion battling for priority, and so nothing to say in the silence.

_*That was not the way to start, perhaps.* _Jolinar's tone was decidedly more even, but Sam felt that it was a forced evenness.

_~Damn right. Mind explaining yourself?~_

_*It is not a question of if I mind or not. It is a matter of your responsibility. I will grant you the trust you have earned, and say that you may not realize what a struggle it was to get through yesterday without calling you out on your behavior. But I will tell you now: it was. It still is.*_

_~So I'm not allowed to have conflicting emotions about...about all that?~ _Sam asked, not so much curious despite her words.

_*Conflicting, yes, overburdening, no. Samantha, you showed no restraint whatsoever; I could barely think with all your emotions. Do you not realize that we share that much at least? Do you not have self control?*_

Sam bit back the first thought that came to mind, and channeled the new energy flowing through her into flipping through her choice of clothes with more force than necessary. _~Well, someone's snappy.~_

Jolinar groaned. _*Even now you maintain your being in the right; I should not have brought it up.*_

_~Oh no, don't try to drop it now,~ _Sam pushed, tone dark but insistent. _~You can't just throw things out and let them hang. Tell me what I should have done, if you're so certain it was wrong.~_

_*Honestly? Not acted as if you were alone in a world where nothing existed but your pretty little troubles.*_

Sam stood stunned, choice of clothes hanging in her hand. Never ask a question if you don't want the answer...especially not from Jolinar.

_*Yes, maybe uncalled for...even now your mood is overwhelming. I understand your youth, Samantha, but this is beyond even that consideration. It is as if you have forgotten all we have accomplished together.*_

_~All right, Jol, and I never thought I'd have to say this, but I need you to explain in smaller, more distinct words,~ _Sam said, jaw just a little tight._ ~What is it?~_

_*I am not your caretaker,* _Jolinar shot at her. _*That clear enough? Did that go through your stubborn head and its cloud of feelings? I am not here solely to take care of your personal life, and certainly not to be your encourager alone. We're partners, and I don't deserve your treating me as if I owe you something.*_

_~You...you don't?~ _Sam flung back, words failing her. _~Have you forgotten?~_

_*For this current mission, no, I have not forgotten anything. Just look at yourself. All the angst over what you should or shouldn't be feeling...*_

_~Oh yes, I'm sure it's all so simple to you.~_

_*Don't push me, Saman...yes, yes, it is. Your father is dying, your friends betrayed you, Sha're blames you for her troubles, your future is unsure, and you've been swaying between hurt and relief over yesterday and hating yourself for not choosing either. All that's clear as crystal when you do not even pause to consider keeping such feelings as close to you as possible.*_

Sam hesitated to take a breath, clasping up her dress with ever-so-slightly trembling fingers. _~So now you want privacy too?~ _she snarked.

_*No, I do not,* _Jolinar snapped back. _*Every day is a torment so long as your mind is deafeningly silent, when all I wish is to hear the thoughts that I know you want hidden from me. But if I must not know them, may I at least be given release from the temptation of feeling the overflow of your heart. The longings, the pains, the fears...it is too much, Samantha, and I will go mad with the tease of intimacy.*_

Sam didn't answer. Jolinar—damn her—had given her focus enough to pull back all her emotions, leaving what she hoped was an empty husk for Jolinar to feel. She wasn't conflicted now, not while this was happening; hidden behind the wall between them, she knew exactly what she felt. Guilt.

Jolinar couldn't help but be affected by her...what was that like? Jolinar didn't have strong emotions often, so even Sam's relatively limited ones must feel like an invasion of self. Like having Jolinar in your head, only on a much visceral level. If there was no closeness between the two minds, how horrible must that feel?

_~I'm sorry.~_

_*No, you're guilty; don't act as if you know nothing of yourself,* _Jolinar answered wearily.

_~Fine, then.~_

There was silence.

Sam gave a pained smile. Of course this would happen in the morning, when Jolinar was her least tactful. But the smile faded, leaving only the pain. Jolinar's words had been full of bitterness, coming from building frustration over who knows how long. And it hurt Sam to acknowledge, because she felt it too. They had been working so well, but had it been a cover? Was the tactical disaster a catalyst for their personal breakdown?

Sam's stomach growled, and she finished dressing so she could deal with it. Hunger did things to even the most blissful people.

ooooooo

Daniel was feeling considerably better by the time he dozed off during kel'no'reem, and was grateful to Teal'c for limiting comments on how long he'd managed to last to eyebrow movements. He woke up with strange marks on his skin from where his BDU's thick seams and buttons had pressed into him as he slept. There was a slight crick in his neck too, but Teal'c adjusted it for him before he had any time to be startled.

After a yawn, a shower, and breakfast, he was feeling much more at peace. Then again, Jack hadn't come into work yet. He was walking down the halls, however, when he saw Janet coming the other way.

"Dr. Jackson," she nodded, stopping as they passed. "I was going to look for you."

"What is it?" he asked, brow creasing.

"Your Dr. Mckay," she said, small mouth in a firm line. Daniel felt a sudden twinge of guilt for forgetting him. "He only knows from hearsay what happened yesterday," she continued. "And as much as he won't admit it, he's getting restless about all of you. I think a visit would be welcomed."

Daniel nodded. Janet gave him a quick smile, comforting in its intent, and they went their separate ways. Daniel's, however, had changed. As he expected, Mckay was not only up early but had a dozen papers spread out on his hospital bed. There was a shade of worry on his face, though, and Daniel instantly regretted not bothering to check in with him earlier.

"Hey," he said, neutrally.

"Hey," Mckay answered.

"I suppose you heard about yesterday," Daniel commented, hands in his pockets in an uncomfortable/comfortable stance.

"Yeah, not a surprise, unfortunately," said Mckay, looking as if there was a nasty taste in his mouth. "It was to you?"

"I'm not sure now," Daniel admitted. "But it doesn't matter, does it?"

"No, not really," Mckay agreed tonelessly.

"How's your hand?" Daniel asked, nodding towards it.

"Painful," Mckay winced. "I can't think with the painkillers, so I told her to take me off them."

"Bad plan?" Daniel guessed.

"I don't know, why don't you decide? Discovering that your genius ideas under medication are nonsense unworthy of a preschooler, or getting random blasts of jarring pain?"

"Sophie's choice," said Daniel, nodding in painful sympathy. Mckay shrugged, and Daniel wondered if he got the reference. "So, still don't know if you're going to stay on the team?"

"Why, do you need me for something?" Mckay asked, slightly suspicious.

"No," Daniel answered, then sighed. "Yes. Maybe. Do you have an answer to the question?"

Mckay eyed him. "Assuming you aren't expecting me to be the buffer between you and O'Neill."

Daniel shook his head. "Jack and I—we'll get through it, eventually."

"Well, eventually's when I'll be back, unfortunately," said Mckay, leaning his head back against the pillow.

"Well, until then, we'll just have to bring our scientific disasters to the infirmary to nearly explode," said Daniel with faux cheer.

"That's not a joke, you know," said Mckay. "You'll need me."

Just as Daniel was about to think of some kind of answer to that, there was a commotion behind them and Daniel turned.

"Oh no," murmured Mckay.

"Hello, Daniel," said Clara Dixon, Abby in one arm while the other snatched for Bobby as the boy stretched out an arm to touch the nearest cool-looking thing in the infirmary. Heart-faced, with a solid torso that showed that she'd been in the army for four years in college, Clara was a strange mixture of power and friendliness. To her children, she was an iron fist; to the rest of the world, an ally who hid her strength under an optimistic smile.

"Didn't expect to see you here," said Daniel, with a real smile at the home-like picture.

"We came to see Mr. Mckay!" piped up Bobby, who stopped trying to pull away from his mother's grasp on his wrist.

"Dr.," corrected his mother. Abby twisted in her arms until Clara let her down, where she ran past Daniel to climb up Mckay's bed like a monkey. "Abby!" Clara called.

"Doctor Rodney!" Abby squealed, hugging Mckay's right arm.

Beside him, Daniel heard Clara stifle a laugh, and to be certain Mckay's face _was_ the stuff of amusement.

"Uh, hi?" the uncomfortable scientist offered.

"We missed you," Abby said.

"Hey baby girl, he's hurt, so you shouldn't hug him unless he says it's okay," Clara advised. "So Rodney, we were all worried when Dave told us what happened, so the kids and I put together a little get well gift."

"Really?" Mckay asked, looking surprised and a little relieved now that Abby was just sitting on the side of the bed, swinging her short stubby legs off the edge.

"James is at school, but he made this for you," Clara said, opening her large purse and handing Mckay an envelope.

Daniel noted with interest at how efficiently Mckay got it open with only his right hand.

Unfolding the paper, Mckay stared at it, a half frown on his face. "He spelled pie wrong?"

Daniel was about to roll his eyes at the lack of tact, but Clara grinned and said. "No, he was trying to be funny...kids and puns, you know."

"Oh, he knows math?" Mckay asked, looking less confused and maybe a little appreciative.

"He tries," Clara shrugged with a smile.

"Interesting," Mckay said. Daniel, hands still in pockets, tipped his head to one side to look at the paper. It was the work of an eight-year-old—decently drawn pie divided into roughly three-and-a-bit pieces, with "I love pi" surrounding it in red crayon. The smiley face on the tri-colored pie was a nice touch, Daniel thought. Mckay seemed to be fighting with the critical side of himself, but he won, or at least called a truce, and didn't say anything.

"Now it's our turn!" said Bobby, jumping up and down and pulling on the hem of her shirt. "Come on, mom!"

"Hold on, yo-yo," said Clara, and she reached into her purse.

"I want to give it!" piped up Abby. "I made them too!"

"You already gave him your present," objected Bobby, taking a mysterious brown paper bag from his mom and walking over to Mckay's bed.

"But he didn't even like my hug," protested Abby with pathos.

Mckay looked uncomfortable again. "I didn't hate it," he muttered, but loud enough that Abby heard him and didn't say anything more.

"Mom and Abby and me made these for you," said Bobby, handing Mckay the bag.

Mckay sniffed. "Is that—are those peanut butter cookies?"

"Do you like peanut butter?" asked Abby curiously, looking up at him.

"Uh, yes, of course," said Mckay in an obvious tone, opening the bag and eyes lighting up.

"Good, 'cause there's lots," said Bobby, grinning and bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"And mom said we couldn't eat any of them," said Abby. She eyed him disconcertingly, and Daniel actually couldn't tell what Mckay would do.

But after a pause—"You could share a cookie I guess..." he muttered.

"Yes!" said Bobby, pumping the air.

Abby looked ready to squeal as Mckay reluctantly handed her two halves of a broken cookie, and she wriggled off the bed to give one to her eager brother.

"What do you say?" Clara said, giving them the look.

"Thank you, Doctor Rodney!" said Abby, crumbs at the corner of her mouth all that was left of the cookie even after this short time.

"Thanks," echoed Bobby.

"Oh no, did he save our lives again?" groaned Dixon, looking in as he passed by.

"Daddy!" squeaked Abby, darting in an unstable toddler run across the infirmary and attempting to tackle Dixon's knee.

"Hey Dad, we brought cookies," reported Bobby, holding up the bitten piece in his hand.

"Uh uh uh uh," corrected Dixon, shaking his head and giving them the eyeball. "Not Daddy. What did I tell you about work?"

Abby was lost for words, but Bobby sighed. "Work is too cool for Daddy."

"And don't you forget it," advised Dixon, a seriousness that was too obviously playful on his face. He tossed a quick glance and nod to Daniel and Clara, where they stood, then returned his attention to his children. "Now, did you have something to say?"

"Yes, sir, Major," said Bobby, snapping to a grinning salute. "We brought cookies to Dr. Mckay, Major sir."

"Good to hear, airman," said Dixon, returning the salute with care. "And this monster is?" he added, looking down to where Abby was still mounting an attack on his lower leg.

"A girl, sir," said Bobby. Abby giggled, looking up at Dixon and waiting for his reaction.

"Ah, deadly stuff then," said Dixon, bending down and scooping Abby up with one arm as he walked into the infirmary. "I think we'd better put her into the proper hands, don't you?"

"No, not Mommy," protested Abby, squeezing her arms around his neck as if they would lock her in place. "I want to live here forever!"

Clara chuckled, prying her daughter from Dixon's neck. "You can't live here, you don't have clearance."

"I wanna know what Daddy does," Abby said, pouting.

"Tough luck, munchkin," said Dixon, flicking the tip of her nose and shrugging.

"Well, we'll just be going," said Clara, turning back to Daniel and Mckay. "You all keep safe, you hear?"

"I thought they were supposed to use up all the bad luck so I'd be fine?" said Dixon.

Clara glared at him, giving him a swipe with her giant purse-bag. "You knew what I meant..."

Dixon's family made their way out of the infirmary, Bobby grabbing for a souvenir as he went, only to have Clara get the pudding cup out of his hand and back on the tray without even looking.

Daniel had been watching the proceedings, smiling, but it was almost bittersweet. Technically his regrets were only for an imaginary family like this, but sometimes it felt like there had been more. He squashed those feelings when he could, knowing that Jack counted on it, even as each time felt like part of the slow destruction of Daniel Jackson.

Shaking his head slightly, though, he looked to Mckay. He was focused on his work, a cookie hanging from his mouth as he tapped a pen on the edge of his notebook while reading through his papers, possibly having missed most of the interaction. Daniel had to doubt it though; uncomfortable around children and family was not an understatement with Mckay, but even at the team's night out he had appeared to have a strange fascination with them.

And then Daniel noticed that he hadn't thought about yesterday in a good ten minutes. Nodding to himself, he left Mckay in peace to go to his work, knowing for sure this time that the team was good for him.

ooooooo

Sam chewed her breakfast slowly despite her hunger, dreading the knowledge that any moment would bring either Larys or Martouf and Lantash. Probably both. It was an ironic feeling, given the many times she had partially resented Jolinar's loner personality. But she had her reasons.

Jolinar remained darkly quiet, not giving any input on their breakfast or anything else for that matter, leaving only the fading bitter taste of discord in Sam's mind. Wasn't it only yesterday that Jolinar had been her only ally among those who distrusted her? Why did she have to go and ruin that one thing? As unfair as Sam suspected that thought was, it was the most prominent one. And part of her wanted to keep it that way, keep her focus.

She just didn't want to resent Jolinar.

And when she looked up to see Martouf making his way across the hall, she decided there was only one thing to do. She fell back, leaving control free for Jolinar. But she didn't take it. For a moment Sam had a feeling like when you forget about the last step at the bottom of a staircase, and find yourself falling suddenly, only to catch yourself with a clumsy jerk. After catching herself by some weird automatic bodily reaction to no active neural commands, Sam put a hand to her chest, heart having leapt a beat.

_~Oh, that was mature,~ _she couldn't help but comment. And then, she wondered in the lack of an answer that followed, if maybe Jolinar didn't feel calm enough to take the lead.

"Something wrong?" Martouf asked, taking his seat.

Sam noticed the lack of food in his hands, and knew her dread was confirmed and he was aware of what had happened. "I don't know, why don't you ask Jolinar?" She took a sip of drink, muttering afterwards. "Can't guarantee an answer, but what the heck..."

"Mm, very wrong," Martouf said, settling himself in his seat for a long stay.

"Don't ask for an explanation," Sam implored, looking up at him. "I truly don't know what to say."

"Something to do with Jolinar, though," Martouf guessed, looking more concerned.

"Yes," Sam confirmed, succinctly. Her guilt coiled coolly in her stomach, even as she ate neatly and deliberately.

Martouf nodded, watching her face closely. His entire expression said, 'And?'

Sam didn't want to answer the unspoken, but a part of her insisted that she should, that it was unfair to leave it to Jolinar. Jolinar hadn't truly started this, not really. "Unfortunately, there are issues with the blending," she finally said, putting down her utensil with finality. "A lack of communication might describe it."

Martouf nodded slowly, expectant of more but unsurprised. It caught Sam off guard, and she wondered how much else he noticed.

"And at this point I don't know what I think about it," Sam finished. "Jolinar, apparently, has been thinking about it for quite some time, so I wish she would just come and say what it is." Sam eased back, waiting, feeling for it. And then, that flicker, and Sam let Jolinar come forward with relief.

"Samantha is not wrong on that point," Jolinar opened grimly. "We began this journey under the assumption that only minimal blending occur, for convenience's sake when it would end. But with all the trials and obstacles since now and then, it has become a burden more than a convenience. And frustratingly, though thoughts were controllable, emotions were not."

"So you feel her emotions but cannot see her thoughts?" Martouf asked, puzzled by the very idea.

"Only those thoughts which are loud enough to qualify as inner speech," agreed Jolinar with a sigh. "While every emotion is now as vivid from her as if she was fully blended; I have tried to keep my own secluded, but with the deluge from her I have not been fully successful. We are teetering on the brink."

Martouf shifted, resting his elbows on the table and clasping his hands in front of him. He dipped his head for a moment, looking back up straight at Jolinar. "I did not expect to have this conversation," he said with a twisted smile.

Sam felt a twinge of conviction. And true, this conflict had come seemingly out of nowhere, even as it was so closely connected to all that had occurred.

"Neither did I," Jolinar answered. "It is—frustrating."

"Have you talked with her before?" Martouf asked.

"No, I was hoping it would not continue to be an issue," said Jolinar. But Sam felt that, off Martouf's answering look, she realized the error in that.

But Sam had to wonder...what would she have said? _~What do you really want?~ _she asked. _~You never really said.~_

Jolinar grimaced, jaw clenching down on nothing. Martouf's eyes narrowed in confusion and dark curiosity, but he held his tongue.

_~You know, don't you, you just don't want to tell me,~ _Sam guessed, not sure exactly what her own words signified, just that they were true.

_*Samantha, please, you pushed me to this but I do not wish to go further.*_

_~I'm sorry, that isn't going to cut it anymore. Remember last time?~_

_*It is nothing like that, I assure you.* _Jolinar's tone was clipped.

_~Let me just repeat you, then: I can't take anymore of this. Is there some kind of Tok'ra code about being secretive about everything, even to your own hosts?~_

Her hand gripped the edge of the table before sending an answer back to Sam like the arrow from a bow. _*Damn it! A code of stubbornness among the Tauri must certainly exist.*_

Sam felt the sting but it was almost a pleasure. It was so easy to strike out, use words and sharp emotions to mask everything else. Logically, she didn't wish to acknowledge it, but with all the confusion she didn't know where her logic had gone. All that was left was bad instincts.

And yet, it was only in the barest part of a moment, and yet she felt afraid. Of herself, of Jolinar...and she knew in that instant where it all came from. Jolinar's temper and impulsiveness, mingling unconsciously with Sam's snark and producing a deadly combination, to be followed by Jolinar's urgent, open fear of what all this was leading to.

Sam only recognized it just after Jolinar, but to ease them both, as Martouf still sat patiently, Jolinar spoke quietly aloud.

"I have never been so separated from my host as a Tok'ra. Disjointed, unwanted...it was better when at times I was able to hide so well as to be invisible. But the more hiding, the more release of emotion made me feel like an intruder, and worse. I share in her emotions, but must ever worry about my own. Not only that she not be forced to share them, but what might happen if my thoughts sent us both down a path too dark."

Jolinar looked down at her hands as she spoke, clenching and unclenching her fingers until she looked up at Martouf for her last words. A flash of pain crossed his face, followed by sadness and sympathy.

Sam only felt the darkness. Perhaps Jolinar had forgotten this time, or perhaps it was all too clear to be frustrating. A deep hurt filled her heart.

"And you kept this silent all this time," Martouf murmured, closing his eyes for an instant. "Lantash—does not trust himself to speak. He is wounded."

"It was not intended to be this long," said Jolinar in a voice so low as to almost be a reminder to herself than something to say to them.

_~I didn't want to hurt you,~ _Sam whispered to her. _~I didn't...~_

_*I didn't wish for you to need to know. You wanted privacy; I wanted to give it to you.*_

_~Oh Jolinar, this isn't privacy. You don't understand, maybe you can't after all these years, maybe you don't want to. Maybe I don't want you to have to know. I don't know anymore.~_

Jolinar closed her eyes, lowering her head, but saying nothing. A second passed, and then they both felt a warm touch. It was a conversation that perhaps he should not have had to bear witness to, but they felt the comfort all the same. And Jolinar brought her other hand to rest on Martouf's, letting him know.

_*Samantha, you honestly asked to know what my wish for you is. I wish that you would be at ease with a full blending. With our mission so uncertain in its length, I feel sick at heart at the prospect of facing it as only half a Tok'ra; a mere mockery, perhaps. And I know that you think it is selfish of me to ask this, but if I am not to keep secrets—and such is not my desire—then this is the truth. I need only your answer in all honesty.*_

Sam felt like she should be stressed; her heart beginning to pound, breaths coming faster, adrenaline rushing to her system, tensing all her muscles for some immediate action if she could just make up her mind. But her body was calm, and only her mind was left. She didn't, she hadn't, she couldn't, could she? Jolinar was already so close...but being that close was not a small step.

_~Jolinar, how can I do this now?~ _she answered. _~My father, Quetesh...what kind of idiot would I be to add something new? I can't; something has to be resolved, anything, before I can even think straight.~_

_*Just give me your decision, whenever you are ready,* _said Jolinar. She took a deep breath and lifted her head.

"Is Samantha well?" Martouf asked, concerned.

"Neither of us are very well at the moment, my love," said Jolinar with resignation on her face. "But we have decided to work towards it, whatever it may be."

Martouf nodded, sitting up and gently withdrawing his hand. "I would imagine that this is no longer the time to address my original purpose in seeking you out?"

"This was not even the time for what we have just discussed," said Jolinar. "No, Samantha and I have much to do, but the less talking about it for now is for the better."

And Sam couldn't disagree with that.

They parted, harmony still intact between the two pairs, leaving only one side struggling. There was only one need: to do something, anything, before thinking and feeling confused about it all again. And thankfully there was much to do.


	37. Decision

**Chapter 36 - Decision**

It now struck Sam as wrong that their first stop always seemed to be to the infirmary. It was backwards, twisted, and Sam didn't want to feel so comfortable there. The Tok'ra shouldn't even need an infirmary; there should never be anything that drastic that a symbiote couldn't heal. Its very presence was a reminder that things were wrong in the world.

And today, Sam had to realize it. The first indication was that Sha're's room was empty. Larys said quietly that she had wished for time by herself, and had taken Shifu and requested a small chamber of her own. The Council needed a full briefing on M4D-495 and what it meant for the future, but in the meantime Sha're's request had been granted. Sam and Jolinar both knew that there was more to it; Sam wondered if she would even be granted a meeting if she asked for it.

There was another person who did not need to be in the infirmary, though. Sam walked to his section and saw him pacing back and forth, his strong forehead marked with deep creases, his gaze brooding as his arms were tightly crossed—to keep them from twitching, Sam thought. He snapped upright as soon as she drew very close.

"Everyone walks quietly here," Jacob commented, tone crisp and full of tension.

"Sorry; the general idea is stealth," Sam said, shrugging. "Thinking about things?"

"As if there's anything else to do?" he answered.

"True," Sam said with a slight nod. "Mind telling me?"

He paused, watching her, and then gestured awkwardly to a stool and sat back down on the edge of his bed.

"You don't look comfortable," Sam began.

"Shouldn't be a surprise," Jacob answered, continuing as if he had just been waiting to start this conversation. "That's the main issue I have here, in fact. You see, your reactions—they're typical as far as I remember, at least in style. You have all the tics still, and a few extra I don't recognize."

Sam adjusted herself from a nervous hands-in-lap stance to gently folding her arms, trying not to grip her upper arms in an even more nervous self hug. Things shouldn't be making her this self-conscious, but that was one aspect Sam couldn't help.

"But the problem is, you aren't behaving like my Sam would in this kind of situation," he continued, using his hand for a slight emphasis.

_*Just like you do,* _came an almost unconscious thought from Jolinar, that maybe wasn't supposed to be heard.

"Do you even see this place?" Jacob pressed, eyes narrowing slightly. "With your own eyes, I mean? The walls hum, but not a machinery hum, a, I don't know, but I can't get over it. And what are they made of anyway? Not glass, not metal, not even plastic."

"They're natural crystals," Sam said. "There's some kind of process that makes them give of light and sound."

"They glow too?" Jacob asked, astonished. "I thought they were just conduits for...Sam, this doesn't weird you out. There are no doors. Every time someone walks by, I know there's a, a symbiote in their head, but they look normal. When they talk, though, it sounds like they're coming through really bad speakers. The food is...disgusting, frankly, and it's not natural. The clothes...the way they walk...you should understand this, but you don't, I can see it in your face."

Sam sat, looking at him, and found herself without a rebuttal. "And you haven't even seen the communal baths..." she murmured.

"The what?" he demanded.

"No, you're right," Sam continued. "I didn't—my first surprises were a little different." They really did care about the host? Jolinar was married? They sleep nude?

"So what, you just didn't notice?" Jacob asked, looking straight at her for the first time since she walked in. "I really am curious, Sam. You've been gone a while, so some of it should be familiar by now, but all of it? I can't know for sure, though...you've been going through planets for over a year since the last time I saw you."

"And I knew about the gate long before that," Sam said with a reluctant smile. Two years in the Pentagon, that year after the first Abydos mission...aliens were part of her past by now. "But I guess Jolinar was the one who had to deal with all of this, and it was home to her; I didn't have a way to step outside the box and see it differently, really." And she had noticed that, sometimes. Just didn't realize the extent until now. "It should have been harder for me, would have been, I think."

"Except for..." Jacob trailed off, hand gesturing towards her head absently. He shut his eyes, shook his head slightly. "This is all too strange."

"Yeah, I'm getting that," said Sam, trying to comprehend what he was going through and only being able to grasp a vague memory to help her sympathize. "I'm sorry."

"It's not really your fault, is it?" Jacob answered, his tone a little calmer as he opened his eyes again. "She took you here against your will, you've just learned to live with it."

_*Hey...*_

"Whoa, wait, what?" Sam broke in, putting up a hand. "You think she stole me away?"

Jacob frowned. "What else were we supposed to believe?"

Sam sighed. "I didn't even think...Dad, I was the one who got us out of the cell. I told her how to use the computers. I agreed to all of it." She looked up at him, seeing the incredulity. "Really. Do you think I'd be okay with it any other way?"

"I don't know anymore," Jacob admitted. He ran a hand through the fringe of hair on his head. "That clears up a lot, actually; it's reassuring."

_~I had no idea things were so messed up on their end...~_

_*It is hard to remember what ignorance felt like; had either of us guessed, we would have been more cautious.*_

"All the reports said you were adamant about your lack of consent to it," Jacob thought out loud. "But it didn't take that long to change, did it?"

Sam exhaled. This she could answer. "Dad, you have no idea what it's like to have a symbiote, have them in your mind. You can see their motives, their goals. They can't hide—much. Not who their true self is, anyways." She had just finished the statement when Jolinar suddenly felt a little more relaxed, and Sam realized what she had said.

Jacob nodded slowly, digesting it.

"I'm taking from your mood, that you need a little more time before you talk to Selmak?" Sam asked, knowing the answer.

"Unless you want me to insult him," Jacob said. "Not that I want to—I'm just not sure what I might say."

_~Uh oh. Would Selmak be comfortable even contemplating being a man?~_

_*That is only a concern for your father. Selmak has had both male and female hosts in the past—several symbiotes are without preference, though many have one.*_

"Dad, just so you're comfortable with the idea before..." Sam said, carefully. "Symbiotes don't have a sense of gender, really, so they have both as hosts. Selmak is in a female host right now."

_*Now who's glossing over details?*_

_~You were right, it is a lot to try to explain at once.~_

"Oh," said Jacob. "I don't know what I...it's not that much more different from anything else, is it?"

Sam gave a dry chuckle. "Probably not."

Jacob shook himself a little, as if to let his muscles loose. "I need to calm down; this can't be good for me."

"Do you want something hot to drink?" Sam asked.

"Coffee?" Jacob asked hopefully.

"No, sorry," said Sam. "But their—actually I don't know what it's called—but it doesn't take too much to get used to. Kind of tastes like tea."

_*Do you mean the hareshna?*_

_~Is that it's name? Well, nice to know, in a trivial kind of way.~_

Jacob shook his head. "No thanks." There was a pause. "I think I might know what Jolinar meant, that it wouldn't take long to be proven wrong. Every foundation I thought I had—not much use here."

"Mm," Sam said, trying to express her sympathy. The only words she had wouldn't help him. _~Honestly, I feel like saying that Selmak would help him feel like he has feet on the ground again. Even here, though, I'm afraid he might think that sounded suspiciously like betrayal.~_

_*In this case, you may not be giving him enough credit. But I believe he will find his own way there.*_

"You don't need to stay around here," spoke up Jacob after the minute's silence. He smiled awkwardly. "I can tell this isn't easy for you either."

"It's not just you, Dad, really," Sam said, trying to sound assuring. She then felt Jolinar silently pressing for control. _~Now? Really?~_

_*He has to know what he's facing. Trust me.*_

Still unsure, Sam closed her eyes and bowed her head so he wouldn't have to see the glow at least.

"Good morning, Jacob Carter," Jolinar said, her voice surprisingly smooth and calm.

He winced, eyes opening wider for a second. "Jolinar," he answered, clearing his throat and sitting up straighter.

"I cannot help but admire the restraint that you have shown so far," she began, uncrossing Sam's legs and sitting neatly upright.

_~Where'd this diplomatic side come from?~_

_*Oh, hush.*_

"And with that admiration, I trust that you will do well on your own here," Jolinar continued, holding his gaze steadily. "Samantha and I have a mission to attend to."

_~We do? We need to leave now?~_

"Mission," Jacob repeated, the wheels in his head clearly turning as he spoke.

"I am afraid that we will have to leave immediately," Jolinar finished.

"I see," said Jacob. He stood up slowly, and Jolinar responded likewise, still looking him in the eye. "I suppose you expect me to shake your hand in farewell," he said in an unreadable tone.

"The Tok'ra are not used to shaking hands," Jolinar answered with a cool tone and the curl of a slight smile on her mouth.

"Well played, I must admit," answered Jacob, his face relaxing just a little, opening and showing honesty beneath.

"Then we will bid you farewell, although Samantha will see you again before she leaves, I am sure," said Jolinar. She tipped her head slightly, hands resting by her sides.

When she looked up, Jacob's face was cleared of emotion. He tipped his head, just barely, and Sam's emotions spiked for no solid reason. Then Jolinar turned and left.

_~Okay, I'm not mad yet, but what did you just promise us to?~_

_*We admitted that the situation here was going poorly. We also agreed that the mission would take priority over personal issues. So since we have already risked more than I find comfortable in taking this long a departure from our post on Quetesh's world, I merely skipped the part with all the talk and made our decision.*_

_~Leave my dad here? He's only going to last a few more days...~_

_*And we shall return by then. Any emergency, and Larys could contact us. It would be risky, but I would counsel him to do it.*_

Sam thought she should have felt more, but she didn't. Jolinar had cut to the chase, and it wasn't an objectionable plan. It was already causing guilt that Sam was getting antsy around her dad, and so she was going to take whatever excuse offered her to get back in the field, back to where she could take on her other role that would be more comfortable for now. And hopefully when she returned, this situation would be smoothed out and make her role as daughter so much simpler. She didn't dare acknowledge the fact that her father might not choose life in the final decision.

ooooooo

By the time Jack came in for work, Daniel was ready for him. And as it turned out, Jack had done his own kind of preparation. They passed each other in the hall at about 0900. Jack hadn't changed into BDUs, but he had a file in his hand.

"Going somewhere?" Daniel asked, deciding to take Jack's tactic and brush over everything other than the present.

"Hammond talked to me this morning," said Jack grimly, stopping in place and holding the file like it was about to burst into flames. "He's charged me to contact Mark Carter and explain that both his father and sister are missing-presumed-dead."

Daniel stopped, face falling. "Oh." He swallowed. "It's coming to that?"

"Apparently, it was hard to explain MIA to General Carter in the first place, without explaining where they went missing," said Jack, his voice tight as if he had to force out the words in an even tone. "The son's a civilian, so presumably he won't ask as many questions. And the possibility is that it won't be a lie."

So, Daniel's tactic hadn't worked. "You really think that?"

Jack brought his free hand up to rub at the nape of his neck. "It doesn't matter if she told the truth; it's a dangerous galaxy out there. And they're playing a dangerous game."

Did Jack refer to the Tok'ra, Daniel thought to himself. Or just Sam and Jacob? Was there a difference, now? Even if we believed them, we would have no way of telling them. They'll be avoiding us for safety's sake; what's the chance of a random encounter?

Jack seemed to have thought of that too. "After I'm done with the briefing, Hammond's suggested we take care of Carter's house. The lease is coming up, and with no way of knowing if...well, he thinks we should deal with it."

Daniel nodded, not quite looking at Jack's face. "I'll let Teal'c know." When Jack didn't say anything, he looked up. "The Dixons stopped by today to see Mckay. It looks like he'll be off the team for a while."

"Well, we're not going anywhere for a while," said Jack with an implicit sigh.

It was becoming clear to Daniel that Dixon had been right about Jack, and Daniel couldn't remain mad at him, especially not after the de facto apology of yesterday. They were a messed up pair, Daniel decided, but given their personalities it was a miracle they had made it this far. He realized his eyes had drifted during this thought, and looking back up to Jack, the colonel appeared clueless about what was going on in Daniel's head.

"I'll get to my work, then," Jack said, gripping his file a little tighter.

Daniel nodded and half smiled, and they both continued down the hall.

ooooooo

_~You've got to be kidding me,~ _Sam said as Jolinar explained their next "official" mission.

_*You know them?*_

_~The Tollan? Yeah...we met. It didn't go so well overall.~_

_*We did hear about the people they left behind who later rejoined them because of you. They have been our allies for some time, and provided us with several useful technologies.*_

_~Oh, so they do it for you, but wouldn't share anything with Earth?~_

_*After being around for many thousands of years without destroying ourselves, I think they considered us a, how would you say it? Safe bet?*_

_~You do smug well, Jolinar, I have to admit.~_

_*The only issue will be, breaking away soon but spending enough time to justify a report. There is usually a good amount to discuss, but if we are gone a week they will wish to know why.*_

_~Actually, I might have a way to do that...~_

Jolinar left that remark hanging, and Sam was glad for the vote of confidence. Missions: the very word had Sam's mind slowly turning off the personal, and Jolinar seemed ready to join her in the practical side of their minds. But before that fully happened, Sam had a personal mission of her own.

Larys was able to give her good news, saying that Jacob seemed to have recovered more than expected. At this rate, he would probably not be in true danger for ten days or more, giving him plenty of time to think about his options. It would not be pleasant, but he would be alive.

"I hope for everyone's sakes that he chooses that which will save lives," Larys concluded.

Sam took the bold hint in stride, and couldn't even say that she didn't have the same hope. More than anything, though, she wanted her father to be content; and as much as she had come to love Selmak, mostly through Jolinar, she wouldn't wish for Selmak to have a host that was even slightly unwilling. Selmak wouldn't either, Jolinar assured her.

Jacob was still a little distant and on edge when Sam gave him her goodbyes, explaining the mission and wishing she could tell him that she wouldn't be going anywhere if it wasn't for her duty to the Abydonians. But her actions were only the tip of the iceberg of his overwhelmed state, and so he didn't seem to think much on them. It was a strained farewell, but there was caring underneath it and that was all that mattered.

Jolinar assumed that the last farewell would go so well.

"You are serious; this is not a test?" Lantash's face was incredulous and just slightly appalled all at once.

"Both true," said Jolinar, recognizing her error immediately and preparing to dig in her heels.

"How can I possibly give you a rational response?" he answered, challenging her to explain. "I know that the Council cannot have asked you to leave, so therefore you must have volunteered, but it is completely inexplicable. Jolinar, what has come over you?"

"Of all the many years you have known me—" Jolinar began.

"Of all the years we have known you, you have never given up like this," Lantash interrupted, breaking her off. Jolinar turned her head away in frustration, clenching her teeth for a second. Lantash put out his hands, gripping her shoulders. "Jolinar, are you truly going to run away again?"

"I am not," she answered stonily. "I am doing my duty."

"Your duty is here, with your unfinished business," Lantash objected. "And if not for yourself, then certainly for the sake of Samantha. How can you drag her away at this time?"

"You think that—you suspect that she agreed to this mission grudgingly?" Jolinar answered, astonished. _"_I do not believe it..."

_~Let me speak,~ _demanded Sam, feeling Jolinar starting to get pissed off. Jolinar swiftly drew back.

"You think you have such an objective view, don't you?" Sam began, not giving any indication of the control change and relishing how Lantash's hands on her shoulders slipped a little in his surprise. "And just because Jolinar asks for your advice and trusts it, you think you can offer it freely? Or that you can speak for me? Wrong—on both accounts." Sam felt her eyes start to glow with the emotion she and Jolinar were containing.

"I did not mean to—" Lantash started to apologize.

"Don't backtrack now," Sam protested, putting up her hand. "Just listen, for once."

Lantash's mouth opened slightly, and his eyes widened in surprise.

Sam knew it had been an exaggeration, but she felt it was worth it. "All the 'unfinished business' you mentioned here? We aren't at a place where we can properly handle whose personal business is whose, so all of it is smothering us. But you know what? We make a damn good field agent. Even more, we can work together like that. It's not running away, it's strategic retreat, and it's for everyone's good. Get it?"

Lantash had shut his mouth, and was now eyeing her with a gleam in his eye. "As you wish," he said, mouth twisting in a half smirk.

_*Excellent, Samantha. Better words than were coming to me.*_

"Good," said Sam, trying not to respond to his half smile or her own feeling of satisfaction.

"Let Jolinar know that I will not dare to doubt her—or you—again," said Lantash, a hint of amusement breaking though his seriousness. "Martouf is at this very moment criticizing my lack of logical consideration, though I will say he offered no warning at the time."

Sam couldn't help a smile, even after all the frustration.

_*It is good to have a common goal, even if it is the rebuke of a certain slightly arrogant, overprotective symbiote and host,* _said Jolinar, agreeing.

"You will return as soon as you are done, though?" Lantash continued with a furrowed brow.

"Of course," said Sam, nodding. "Truly, we are not running away for good. I wouldn't want to—I couldn't bear that. And, though she may not say it, I think Jolinar thinks the same."

Lantash dipped his head, smiling fondly. "Then you should leave immediately, so that you need not worry about the timing of your return."

"But your tradition?" Sam asked.

"It can be foregone," he answered, giving a slight squeeze to her upper arms. "Go, do what you do best. I trust your ability to work through this on your own."

Sam smiled her thanks, and returned the control to Jolinar. "My beloved fools," she said in a tinny whisper, then pulled them into a close embrace.

Emotions were smoothing themselves out, and Jolinar was right; Sam felt a semblance of their old harmony return as their current goals aligned, and she felt all the more natural for it.

—

Author's Notes: As you might have guessed, both Sam and Jolinar are very good at repression. Last chapter's painful revelations were willingly put aside for the sake of what they consider their work, and as they said, they work together much better than they live together. However, as much as they are trying to "get back to normal", the issues from last chapter have certainly not gone away. This is an artificial harmony, even if they don't quite admit it.


	38. Past

**Chapter 37 - Past**

With their Jaffa uniform carefully hidden on an empty world, Jolinar and Sam dressed for their current mission. As contact for the entire Tok'ra base to the Tollan, Jolinar pulled out her most stately outfit, and Sam was glad to see that it neatly skirted the line between formal and over the top. The cut was close, hugging Sam's body in a long-skirted high-necked dress in a dark greyish purple color. The sleeves were also long, with the hint of fluting at their ends. It had Sam feeling completely in control of the situation, and she hoped that emotion would help Jolinar, to whom this was just another dress.

By the time they were packed and ready to depart, having discussed the mission a couple hours before with Garshaw, it was afternoon on the Tok'ra homeworld. But when they walked through the glimmering event horizon, the sun meeting them on the other side was bright at high noon. And just as Sam had hoped, the greeting party consisted of one man standing at attention just beyond the gate.

_*You know him?*_

_~I wonder if he will remember that he knows me in this situation.~_

Narim walked up the slight incline with hands lightly clasped in front of him, looking serious and polite in his grey with dark grey trim. As always. His face was cool without being aloof, and Sam remembered how it had been to feel what went on behind his contained exterior. She smiled, and suddenly he seemed to see her face as he approached. His eyes widened, but he held himself.

"Greetings, ambassador of the Tok'ra," he said evenly. "I am Narim of the Tollan, but I do not think we have met before."

"Narim," Sam answered warmly, a little amused at his reaction. "We certainly haven't met like this."

"I beg your pardon?" Narim answered, blinking. Sam could see his mind working, wondering if she was who she reminded him of, or if he was about to make a terrible diplomatic mistake by jumping to insane conclusions.

"Greetings, Narim of the Tollan," Sam said, deciding to go the easy way for him, the protocol. "I am Samantha of the Tok'ra, host to Jolinar of Malkshur."

"You are Samantha?" Narim confirmed, astonished and taking another step forward.

"Of course," she answered.

His eyes lit up, and he put out his hand to clasp her proffered one, holding it close for a second. "It has been a while," he said, dropping his voice. "I apologize; I could not believe my eyes. You are Tok'ra?"

Sam nodded, squeezing his hand back. "Yes, through no plan of my own." It was too easy to smile here, even with the pressure.

"It is a strange turn of events," he admitted, looking into her eyes. Sam saw the slight hesitation. "Your symbiote?"

"Jolinar," Sam answered.

"Of course, so you said earlier," Narim answered, shaking his head. "I apologize."

"No, I get it," Sam answered. "It's a bit distracting?"

"I did not think to see you again," he admitted. "And then to see you, and yet not the same you, and here on business that is not for your strange world. Samantha, you have shaken me just as when we last met."

_*Was he the first to be permitted to call you Samantha?* _asked Jolinar.

_~I don't know; I didn't really notice.~_

"So, are we going to hold the briefing here?" Sam asked, glancing around. Tollana was neatly organized, with buildings of straight lines that were offset just enough to loosen the order, but not enough to make one forget about it.

"No, of course," Narim said, gesturing with his hand. "Please, come this way."

There were few other Tollan near the gate, but Sam looked around with some interest as they made their way into the city, noting the order. For all that they were technologically advanced, there wasn't much in the way of alien-looking architecture or clothing. In fact, it was like a subtler form of some Earth cities.

Narim took them a short distance away, into a wide, brightly lit lobby with comfortable seating. He glanced around, appearing slightly nervous, and Sam took a seat with what she hoped was reassuring calmness. "Do you need any refreshments?" he asked.

"No, we're fine," said Sam.

"Then I suppose we should move on to business," he continued, slightly reluctant.

"Actually, Narim—please sit, there's something you need to know." Sam wondered what Jolinar was thinking about this as she waited for Narim to take a seat, his head cocked in curiosity. "It wasn't an accident that, of all people, I came here."

"It would not have displeased me had that been the case, but I must admit I am glad to hear otherwise," said Narim with a covert smile coming through his professional posture.

Sam smiled, a little uncomfortably. "Unfortunately, it wasn't for personal reasons; not those kind, anyway. I have a request, and I'm not sure you'll like it."

Narim frowned. "The Tok'ra and the Tollan have a good relationship. I am sure whatever you have to ask will not cause trouble."

"I'm not asking on behalf of the Tok'ra," Sam said, looking at him closely. She sat forward, resting her hands on her knees. Narim's face was clearly confused, but he waited. "I need to know if you can keep a secret."

"From whom?" Narim asked cautiously.

Sam chewed on the inside of her lip for a second, then came out and said it. "Partially from your government, but mostly from the Tok'ra High Council. It's not anything serious, for them, but it is for me and Jolinar."

Narim looked down at his hands, exhaling slowly. "I have missed you, Samantha," he said, looking up again with a small smile. "But truthfully, I have not missed the tendency of your people for secrecy and dishonesty."

"Then perhaps you would prefer to hear this from me," said Jolinar, coming forward from her silent watching.

"Jolinar," acknowledged Narim, sitting up straighter and composing his face again.

"Yes," Jolinar continued without pause. "And I will tell you, that whatever you think of the people of the Tauri, this plan is not a work of theirs. It is honorable, merely something that the Tok'ra would not be doing at this time for unimportant reasons; believe me, if you consent to keep this secret, you will not doubt its efficacy."

No longer having to think of the right words, Sam watched Narim closely. He was uncomfortable around Jolinar, that was plain, but she had a solid feeling that he would have been perfectly at ease with any other Tok'ra. Instead, his fondness for Sam—could it still be called love, she wondered—clashed with his ignorance of and natural respect for Jolinar, leaving him confused of his own feelings. Even more, they were pushing something on him that would crack his personal ethics.

"Do you trust that I would not lie to you?" Jolinar asked, pushing him to a quick response.

"I do," he answered firmly. "And I do not doubt Samantha's intentions."

Jolinar nodded, and returned control to Sam. "I promise, Narim," she said when she could, "it is nothing too heinous."

As Jolinar had informed Sam as they prepared, the Tok'ra/Tollan alliance was a matter of some classification for the Tollan. While they did not fear the Goa'uld, the Tok'ra had not thought it wise to have a whole culture know of their existence and the type of alliance they had, lest there be some dangerous breach. And the Tollan had no objections; something that did not surprise Sam when she considered their relative personalities. Therefore, while they kept regular contact and a certain amount of trade, the meetings of ambassadors did not have high profile. Neither the Tok'ra Council nor Travell of the Tollan would meet in person, and any requests were made through a middleman before reaching the respective Councils.

Sam had taken only a few minutes to brainstorm a plan once she found out that Narim was known to the Tok'ra as a frequent ambassador. It required a high amount of trust—but she didn't see any large risks. Jolinar had been given an agenda to discuss with Narim, which he would relay point by point to the Tollan Curia to discuss, and would then relay back to Jolinar for negotiation. Jolinar was not generally at ease with this, but it was an urgent mission.

And as it turned out, she would not have to do anything, particularly. Sam would give the entire agenda to Narim, spend a day or two discussing each point in detail, and then leave covertly with his help. With a prepared shorthand to the Tok'ra's positions and arguments, Narim could act as if he discussed each change with Jolinar, while in reality just looking at the cheatsheet. Sam didn't use that last term, but from the look on Narim's face, she might as well have.

"And I may not know what mission you are on?" Narim asked after a pause where Sam suspected he inwardly sighed.

"Just know that it's philanthropic, and should not even be too dangerous," Sam assured. She looked him in the eye and held the look until he looked down to pull something from his pocket.

"Here, take this," he said, handing her a small form of a subspace communicator. "As often as you can, you may contact me so that I may be sure how long to hold your—ruse. And if your people try to contact you?"

_*They will not,* _said Jolinar.

"It would go through my communicator," Sam said. She smiled wanly. "I'm sorry about this, Narim; I didn't want to meet again like this."

He shut his eyes to smile, opening them again after a moment. "I was not sure you would ever wish to meet me again. Even like this, I am glad."

Sam paused, not sure how to take his words or what to do with them, wondering if now was the time to address any feelings they had for each other. It would, perhaps, if she had good news—but after getting him to agree to breaking many laws, she decided that to inform him that she wasn't in a place to deal with personal relationships would be cruel.

_*Not to mention tactically unwise,* _Jolinar added.

"I am not expected to report to the Curia until tomorrow," Narim said after a pause.

"I hope to leave tomorrow afternoon," answered Sam, hands twisting slightly in her lap as the conversation lagged.

"I will be here all afternoon," Narim said, smile only a little tight. "Whenever you are ready to start the briefing?"

"Now is good," said Sam with relief, pulling her datapad from the small hidden pocket it resided in. She wasn't sure if she liked that she was glad to leave behind any and all personal matters.

ooooooo

They were intruders, Daniel felt as they went through Sam's house room by room. This was not only her home, but they had no business here. It was if she had just stepped out for a little vacation, and they were already snooping around like nosey relatives. Maybe that's what she had once thought of them, too, once upon a time. But instead, they were something much less pleasant.

It was some relief when they opened the door and saw neatly shelved items, not too much, just the right amount for someone whose weeks were so busy and random that they were never sure when the weekend was. A house it was, but it wasn't a full home—it was plain that it was mean to be, though.

Teal'c and Jack had started in the kitchen and bathroom, quietly loading anything that wasn't perishable into packing boxes. Hammond had offered to send some more help with them, but Jack had spoken accurately for this part of the team and said that it was something they had to do on their own. Daniel stood in the lobby for a few minutes, waiting for the heavy feeling to leave. He missed Sam. But it wasn't leaving, and so he took the first door and started in her library.

As admirable a goal though it was, he couldn't just load the books into boxes. He browsed through the titles, absorbing the names he knew and the names he didn't. Some science, some science fiction, some beat-up textbooks, all of these he could barely recognize by brief glance alone. But sometimes, his fingers would run across the spine of a book, feeling the rough warmth of it—Sam didn't seem to keep dustjackets for any book she read frequently—and its familiarity. There were a few British classics—P.G. Wodehouse, Dorothy Sayers—which didn't surprise him as much as he expected. A dog-eared and worn-cornered copy of The Princess Bride; a complete set of Jane Austen that might as well have still been in shrink wrap, a King James Bible that looked like a family heirloom. Title after title, condition and position on the shelf telling just as much to Daniel as anything, he knew just how close a look he was getting into Sam's mind.

She didn't read much, he had to conclude. Not as if she would want to, with a life just as fiction-worthy as any, but what she did read, she loved. And not always for the content; some books were inscribed as gifts, others, like the textbooks, were symbolic of something else. He wondered if she had ever gotten rid of a book as he moved to a shelf that consisted mainly of books for a much younger audience than the Sam he had known. And yet on this shelf, the books did not capture his attention.

Sam didn't have many pictures on display, and Daniel couldn't remember if he had ever seen her with a camera or near one, but even the few snapshots here said so much. Far too much, perhaps. He saw no evidence of her life before her mother; the one shot of her with Jacob portrayed a happiness that hinted at masks. Her hair was longer then, a dark blonde that said nothing about her except that she kept it even into her Air Force years. She hardly looked different in the last picture, face the same even when her hair was pulled into a firm knot at the back of her head, framed only by the collar of her dress blues.

It was her expression that was different. Her grin stretched across her face and her arms rested casually around the two other blue-clad young men in the picture, something that Daniel hadn't really seen. She didn't have comrades any more, not in this way, not in the bond of soldiers. Commanding officers, yes, and co-workers that she saw occasionally in the mess, but with her team and her scientists there was a different ease. Mental, not physical, was the only way Daniel could qualify it.

Shaking his head, he put the pictures carefully into the box. When he walked out to get a drink to get rid of the dust in his throat, Jack and Teal'c had already started in the living room, Teal'c with the decorations and Jack with the videos and DVDs. Teal'c looked sober, treating every object with respect, but Jack was curiously involved, something that made Daniel feel less guilty about his own distractions. There was both resignation and intrigue on his face, mixed with the dark sadness they all had and didn't try to hide.

But by the time Daniel was done with the office and library, there was only one room left. Daniel couldn't help but feel just slightly amused that Teal'c went first to Sam's dresser, folding each article of clothing neatly and carefully. There wasn't much else in the room, so Daniel joined him by dealing with the closet. Jack went to the bedside table, opening the drawers and pulling out the items found—random, as was expected, and Daniel saw Jack pause over each one and ponder it.

As the room started to empty, Daniel had a moment of slight panic. She wasn't dead. This wasn't being sent to her next of kin. They were just storing it away, admitting to themselves and to everyone else that she was lost to them. He understood that—understood the implicit "for now" that had its own implication of "indefinitely" and maybe something darker underneath. But he remembered Nem, and the apartment that they had sold in his absence, and his mind shouted to him "too soon, too soon".

And yet, it didn't last. It couldn't. They weren't mistaken on this; there was no hallucination, no possible way a memory could be implanted. The one thing that was sure about all this was that Sam was not coming back now. And as much as it angered and saddened him to be forced to do this, to pack her away like an old memory, it was absolutely necessary.

"Hey, look at this," Jack called across the room, tone nondescript.

Daniel and Teal'c looked up. "What is it?" asked Daniel, looking at the thing in Jack's hand about the size of a credit card.

"It's like a remote, I think," Jack said, frowning. He pressed a button, and Daniel jumped as a wild beeping sounded just to his right.

Teal'c, just opposite it, raised a weary eyebrow and picked up the beeping keychain. "Is it perhaps like your homing beacons?"

Jack shrugged. "I guess." He pressed the other three buttons on the remote, but nothing sounded.

Daniel went back to his own job, with only the tallest shelf in the closet left. A pair of stilletto heels and a giant floppy hat gave him a sad smile, although Teal'c didn't seem to understand when he showed them.

"Ow!" They both turned to see Jack shaking his hand and trying not to touch his face with it. He gritted his teeth.

"What?" asked Daniel, a little concerned.

"Get me a towel," Jack said with a twitching eye.

Daniel pulled his handkerchief out, tossing it to Jack as he crossed the room.

"Her perfume bottle had pepperspray in it," Jack said, his near-growl the most emotion he'd shown all day.

Daniel choked back a pathetic laugh. For Sam to have it, and Jack to have to touch it...he needed to laugh, cry, or both. He tried to avoid all three.

It didn't take long to finish everything, and load up the truck with all their boxes. Teal'c was especially helpful with the last part, and carried out two boxes at a time until the ones with books slowed him down. It was Jack who stacked the last box in the back of the truck, though, with Sam's more fragile things (including the perfume bottle). He wiped a slightly sweaty forehead with his hand, not with the pepperspray stained handkerchief, thank you very much. "I think that deserves pizza."

Teal'c's eyebrow rose, and Jack had it delivered while they sat in the back of the truck. The door to the house was locked; a cleaning crew would finish the job later, but they were not going to eat in Sam's vacant house. It was unsettling, and this was supposed to provide closure. It didn't work, not entirely, but Jack had known that from the beginning, or so Daniel assumed. They ate pizza and stealthily watched Teal'c as he tried the wonders of Hawaiian, and managed not to think of the symbolism of it all.

Returning to the base, there was a quick touching of bases with Dixon and Mckay, and then it was late and time to go to their own homes. Daniel sat cross-legged on his double wide bed for a couple hours, a small Abydonian clay pot in his hands, fingers brushing every curve and nick as he stared vacantly into the candle-illuminated dark. Entirely or not, he had almost closed the wound left behind by Sam—was Sha're close to follow? Could he one day pack up all his memories and store them away? Never mind could, would he ever want to? It was his last worry until the candle burned low and he let his last tired breath extinguish it before falling asleep almost before hitting the pillow.

Tomorrow was a day that held the promise of clarity, of making through the day with a mind on the present alone. For an archaeologist, this closure of the book of the past did not offend him so much as it might have.

ooooooo

For the first time in a long time, Sam talked as fast as she could and was met with neither a wish for it to cease nor a mind that could not understand. Narim listened intently to every word, pausing only for a few words of clarification and then returning to slight nods and brow creases. Then they stopped to eat, and Jolinar spoke to Sam.

_*Who is this, exactly? My trust in your judgment was not ill-placed, obviously, but where did your trust come from?*_

Sam hemmed, hawed, hesitated, and Jolinar frowned and said if it was what she thought it was, she didn't need to know. She didn't say she didn't want to know, which Sam noted, but they both were in agreement that it would be an irrelevant conversation now.

Narim was perfectly work-a-holic, and with Sam refreshed, she sped again through the vast amounts of information that he needed to know. The Tok'ra had a formal relationship with the Tollan, but the amount given and received from both sides seemed to vary with political changes. Garshaw made her policies clear when she had taken over from Selmak as High Councillor a couple decades ago, and stuck to them with firm resolve. The Tollan had gone through many leaders since then, some lenient, some chary, and the resulting technology and information stream had not been steady. The Tok'ra decided that now was the time to push for more technological aid, while Narim said that Chancellor Travell was in no mood to help without a benefit to the Tollan. Sam felt guilty for feeling pleased when he said that the negotiation would easily last days on that point alone, especially when his face expressed how daunting a task he might find it.

"Do the Tollan ever send hosts?" Sam asked him as she paused to take a sip of cool water.

"We have no one in need," he answered, frowning. "Our medical knowledge keeps us from that necessity."

It was a satisfactory answer by itself, and also gave Sam a possible explanation as to just why the Tok'ra were not keen on alliances. And as the information continued to flow, Sam noticed just how little the Tok'ra seemed to want to offer. Jolinar might be more blunt about her ways, but the High Council was scarcely less of a hard sell. It made sense from a tactical point, Sam knew, and suspected that the Tollan were well aware also—but it wasn't the usual way a benevolent society showed itself, and even Narim seemed to have an underlying hint of frustration even as he concentrated on remembering the arguments he would have to report to his own people.

Jolinar seemed to doze for the first few hours, only alerting herself after the light began to fade. But the changing light of the setting sun filtering through the shades on this house reminded Sam of just how long they had been at it. Another hour of fast talk, and she was ready to eat again. It did not revive her for long, as even she found herself growing tired of all the mind-numbing political directions. She did not pity Narim over the many-day sessions of debate, even though he would not have to take direct part. She didn't pity herself, either, as the datapad's screen started to blur before her eyes as the sky and house grew darker.

It was night soon after. But before she could give in and say that she was too tired to continue, she found herself waking. She and Narim had been seated side by side on a comfortable couch, she holding the datapad so he could double check the information, but mostly just following along as she conveyed it verbally. So they were still, but she was resting against the back of the sofa, head heavily leaning on his shoulder. Had she really fallen asleep? True to himself, he did not seem to have moved from his upright and seated position.

"Did I drop off?" she asked, sitting up and brushing back a strand of hair loosened by the sleeping position.

"You were worn out, that is all," said Narim, slightly adjusting his position once she moved. He must have sat stock still while she rested, for her not to wake up. "Jolinar informed me what happened."

"Oh," said Sam, surprised by the notion that Jolinar had been just as able to speak while she slept as the other way around. She held back a small yawn. "This doesn't normally happen, really. I don't know what came over me."

_*Politics will do that to anyone,* _Jolinar spoke up. Sam shook her head and smiled barely. Maybe Lantash had been right; maybe their unfinished business at home followed them abroad, draining emotional strength silently. Or maybe it had just been a long day without much rest.

"Whatever it was, it is clear that we should do no more tonight," Narim said, with a small smile of his own. He rose from the couch, bowing slightly. "I will come again tomorrow, Samantha, and we may finish."

"Thank you," said Sam. For a moment unsure whether to stand or stay sitting, the decision was made for her as Narim quietly turned to leave. Sam bit her lip, watching his stance and not able to see what he might be thinking. Part of her needed to know.

_*This is a most comfortable couch,* _Jolinar hummed, sounding almost as tired as Sam felt.

_~No need for a real bed then,~ _Sam answered. She yawned one last time before stretching out along the plush cushions and closing her eyes. It was a quick drop back into sleep.

She dreamt that night, the first time that she could remember in a while. It was disjointed, confusing, but grippingly erotic. Flickering light, murmured words in a dark voice, unbearable heat and power flooding her and making her gasp for air even as she reached for more. The morning light woke her, and the memories faded quickly, but she remembered enough to have her frowning. The face was the first to go—she didn't even know who she had dreamt about, who had left her aching with arousal in the cool morning—but it was no different from dreams she had had before. Except that she didn't have these dreams, not for many years. Why now, of all times? And it was uncomfortable and intimately so; she was glad to find that the Tollan still recognized the value of showers. Jolinar was awake by then, but Sam didn't know how much she was aware of and so didn't even draw near the subject.

They dealt quickly with breakfast, wonderfully calming and soothing after yesterday and yesternight, and found that there was not long to wait for Narim. He didn't look as rested, but was quick to return to their scheduled discussion. The last pieces of information only took a couple hours to relay.

Narim sighed as they finished and Sam handed him the datapad.

"Are we good, then?" Sam asked, hands resting in her lap.

He glanced down, scanning over the list. "I believe I understand everything," he said, turning to look her in the eyes.

Sam nodded slowly. "Thank you."

He put up a hand. "Do not. You know that my help was never in question." He took a short breath before continuing, "Now, you must be ready to depart before the traffic worsens."

She smiled briefly. "Of course."

They sat for a moment, almost facing each other, hands resting on their knees—and Sam couldn't read his face. It was calm, attentive, and yet there was something in the back of his eyes that she felt like she needed to place. But he was well experienced in keeping thoughts hidden if he wished to, and she didn't try. A moment more of hesitation, and then they both rose.

As when they had arrived yesterday, Sam noticed very few people around the court by the gate. Narim, walking close to her but without quite touching, pulled out a small device as they reached the foot of the gate platform. "I obtained this last night," he explained, showing her a small screen that displayed the gate symbols. "Good luck, Samantha."

"Thank you, and good luck to you too," Sam answered. She entered the address of the planet where their costume was waiting, and looked back to him as the gate activated. "I'll contact you soon."

"I will appreciate it," he answered with a hint of a smile.

Sam only looked back once as she walked through the wormhole, but Narim stood and made no sign until all she saw was the blue of subspace.

—

**Author's Notes: **It was established in the episode "Serpent's Song" that the Tollan knew the Tok'ra, probably before Earth met either. I have merely expanded on what that relationship might mean, since we never hear of it again in canon.

Also, just to clarify the issue of blending as I have explained it in this story, in case it is unclear, since the last time it was explained in detail was in one of the first chapters. Tok'ra blending as I understand and portray it is a mixture of physical and mental, as well as conscious and unconscious. There is a neural chemical in symbiotes that transfers memories and thoughts between the two brains of host and symbiote, but how that chemical works depends on the type of blending. The chemical comes from physical tendrils that grow from the symbiote into the host's spinal cord over time; initial blending involves only a little of the chemical, but the longer these tendrils have to grow, the more blended the two become. These tendrils are what makes extracting symbiotes difficult.

This is what happens in a normal blending, but that is not what happened to Sam and Jolinar. Jolinar consciously held back from a true blending when she took Sam in the first chapter, not growing the tendrils necessary for mingling of minds and emotions. With only a limited amount of the chemical being transferred, therefore, Sam and Jolinar's consciousnesses were mostly separate. Over time, Jolinar has had to work hard to keep from doing the natural thing and spread her tendrils into a fuller blending. However, at this point in the story, she missed the fact that a few tendrils had grown and blended with the emotional part of Sam's mind. This means that all Sam's emotions are being transferred through Jolinar's mind, but Jolinar cannot see Sam's thoughts because she is still holding back from blending with that part of Sam's mind. And Sam did not notice this emotional blending because Jolinar was trying to bury her own emotions.


	39. Bluff

**Chapter 38 - Bluff**

_*You were not what he was expecting,* _Jolinar said as she assembled their make believe pouch for journey back to Quetesh's world. _*I do not know what he thought in detail, but that much I know.*_

Sam didn't reply; she knew that as well.

_*But you were not surprised, and do you feel guilty for it?*_

_~I don't want to talk about it.~_

_*Very well. To our mission at hand then.*_

Jolinar once again took control, not only of Sam's body, but also the role. Sam felt the small changes without fully knowing how to describe them, and it felt good to be back in this. A little excitement and purpose after a wait that had been personally disastrous. Even the armor of the Jaffa was worth that.

The gate opened and they walked through to the familiar grounds of Quetesh's world. The temple was still unfinished, the activity still high, and nothing seemed to have changed in the six days since they left. All appeared well.

Instead of trying to contact Kasuf, Jolinar made her way with quick strides to the temple itself, glancing around for the positioned Jaffa. As the traffic to and from the temple seemed just as great, and as she recognized the same faces in the same positions, she took her place just inside the front steps. _*We can only hope that we have not been missed.*_

The day wore on as it had before, with still little to note as they held their position. While waiting for the Abydonians to be returned, there was only so much they could do. It worried Sam, though, that they had yet to form a plan that would accomplish their entire goal, or even get them along the path towards it. Not that she expected they would have one, but not even to attempt it rubbed against her calculated side. Things would have to play the course a little longer before they tried to alter it.

As the sun fell from its zenith, Jolinar drew nearer to the inner court of the temple as Sam's curiosity about it grew. It was too precise for something that was only intended for aesthetic pleasure, too vague for any complicated machine that Sam was familiar with. Aside from Goa'uld crystals perhaps, but that was still a piece of complicated technology inside. Hearing Sam's active thoughts, Jolinar looked up and around, trying to understand what Sam saw while giving her more opportunity to do so.

"Jaffa, kree!"

Jolinar snapped to attention at the sharp cry only a few feet off. Toc'no, their commanding Jaffa, stood with a fearsome look on his face. Sam didn't like it, and bit back her words at the occurrence of exactly what they had feared.

"Your absence has been marked for several days," Toc'no continued, closing in on their position with the marked aggression of authority. "And what possible explanation is there for that?"

"The business of our lord Quetesh is not all explained to you," Jolinar said evenly, her chin just below level.

Sam froze, cursing herself for letting Jolinar take lead in this part. _~No, no, damn it, you have to apologize.~_

"So you believe you have higher authority, do you?" Toc'no said, walking dangerously closer to Jolinar.

She held her ground and looked him in the eye. _*Samantha?*_

_~Look down a little, but don't evade him,~ _Sam hastily provided, wondering how they were going to save this. _~Be invisible, be unremarkable.~_

"I only do what I am commanded to," Jolinar said.

"And I don't believe you," Toc'no answered. "I think that your strange behavior went by unnoticed until you pushed it too far, but I know what you are now." He was up in her face, eye to eye, spitting out his last words: "A traitor."

Jolinar flinched. "I am not," she answered with a hiss.

"It does not matter, there are more where you come from," Toc'no continued.

_~Now what?~_

_*I am not—*_

They both paused in shock as Toc'no thrust his hand towards their symbiote pouch, almost doubling over as he struck the prosthetic and all the force traveled through into their gut. Jolinar gritted her teeth.

Toc'no stood for a moment, absorbing what had just happened.

_*He would have killed us, taken the symbiote and our life along with it.*_

"Spy?" Toc'no was paralyzed, eyes wide and mind analyzing, deciding before he acted—but his hand was straying towards the dagger on his belt.

Jolinar couldn't let it get that far. In the second before he could finish, she flipped her own dagger out and plunged it up through his symbiote pouch and deep into his chest cavity, slicing through everything in her way. Sam felt her hand deep in a dying man's body, then ripped forth covered in both red and grey-green blood, and her mind froze.

Instant regret followed, as Jolinar's field of vision widened to see the watching slaves and other Jaffa approaching. A large audience to her act of preemptive self defense, unforgivable without special cause.

_~What have we done?~ _Sam whispered.

_*Murdered our commanding officer for the sake of the mission, and are now left stranded.*_

_~It can't be an act of passion...~ _Sam trailed off.

_*Correct, it must be calculated,* _Jolinar thought, hastily gathering herself. She stood up tall and let her steely eyes drift along the line of open-mouthed slaves. Two Jaffa had heard the noise, and came forward with staff weapons drawn. "Do not be foolish," she spat at them, not even drawing her own. "Toc'no was weak, even to the point where he sought to challenge the will of his own god for the sake of his precious pride. I could not in all conscience allow our great god Quetesh to be so misrepresented."

As Sam sought to block out the sensation of a slight breeze blowing on their damp hand, she had to say to herself, _~She's good.~_

The other Jaffa hesitantly let their weapons rise, unsure of what had just happened but not willing to make a quick judgment and let it be wrong.

Jolinar had her new strategy in seconds. "You," she said, pointing to a servant carrying a water jug. "Bring that over so that I may wash this worm's blood from my hand. And you next to him—clear this carcass away and purify the floor." She plunged her hand into the water jug, letting the red-grey stain cloud away into it. Shaking it dry over the body of Toc'no, twitching no longer, she let her back grow rigid again and walked over to the Jaffa.

"Toc'no was a good leader," said one of them, but his eyes shifted just slightly.

"All leaders have their prime; his was unfortunately short, but there is no mourning for it," Jolinar said, voice low, staring him straight in the eyes. "Until our lord sees fit to arrange otherwise, I shall take his place. Unless you have any objections." The last words came out severe and lingered in the air.

"We all serve our god as best we can," said the other Jaffa, looking almost convinced by Jolinar's ruse.

"So we do," Jolinar answered, letting her aggressive stance lessen to a gravely serious one. "And that is all that matters in life or death."

"We can be glad he did not have to face humiliation from our god," the Jaffa muttered to his still hesitant companion.

Toc'no's supporter glanced once more to Jolinar. "So be it," he said firmly.

"We will make this a world that our lord can be proud of," Jolinar continued, a determined, proud smile creeping at the corners of her mouth. It was persuasive enough, and the Jaffa stood willingly to attention. "Bring me all the information that Toc'no was privy to," she said. "And tell your fellow Jaffa of the news. I will be waiting for your return in my new quarters." As much as one could sweep away in clunking Jaffa armor, Jolinar swept down the steps in quick, decisive movements, using Sam's height to all its advantage as she did not even deign to look at the slaves.

_~God, what have we done?~ _The kernel of misgiving that Sam had sensed from Jolinar was beginning to grow and join with Sam's fear, threatening to overwhelm at any moment. They needed to get out of the spotlight, now.

ooooooo

Daniel's mouth twitched in a smirk as he stopped to look in the office a few doors down from his. "So, you're one of us now," he said, nodding towards the papers scattered across the desk.

Robert Rothman looked back up, smile crinkling his short beard. "I guess," he answered with a shrug. "I was taking everything home until I figured out my apartment state..."

"But you stay here long enough to make it more worthwhile to keep it here, yeah, I know," said Daniel with understanding. "Any projects yet?"

"Meyers has me cataloging his notes," Rothman admitted, hand hovering just above the mess on the table.

"You can assign that?" Daniel pondered.

"I'm the junior archaeologist," said Rothman. "Which is odd given that I'm older than you."

Daniel half rolled his eyes. "You should see our head astrophysicist—and our head engineer. We seem to attract the young and crazy."

"Well, if the world is crazy, why not?" said Rothman, grinning. "I heard Jordan came down for a visit of his own."

"He joined us offworld, actually," said Daniel. "Have you been assigned to a team yet?"

"Oh no, no." Rothman shook his head vigorously, then readjusted his glasses. "I made it very clear to your recruiters that I didn't want any danger."

Daniel glanced away for a second and stuffed his hands in his pockets, conflicted on how to tell Rothman that the base was share to its own dangers, often no less than offworld. But in the end, it would probably be better, though possibly crueler, to find out on his own. By the time you got that far, there was no turning back, and you didn't really want to.

"So I assume you'll be leaving pretty regularly," continued Rothman. "Any planets of special interest?"

"Actually, one of our team's down, and so we'll be taking some time off," said Daniel, looking back up. "There's a pretty good ratio of scientific discovery and since that's the sort of thing that the government is most interested in, we don't want to take the chance of missing anything." He finished with a barely audible sigh.

"I guess history and archaeology don't turn up very 'cool' things, militarily speaking," said Rothman, using the slang word with unease. "No big weapons, no special drugs."

"Not yet," Daniel amended, with a slight smile. "But in this galaxy? It wouldn't at all surprise me, given what we've already found."

"You mean the aliens?" Rothman asked. "The really advanced ones; yes, Dr. Meyers was very fascinated by telling me all about them. Sound a bit scary, if you ask me."

"Were they the Goa'uld or the Asgard?" Daniel asked for clarification.

Rothman shrugged. "Have to admit, I haven't figured all that out yet."

"Ah, so you haven't gotten to the interesting stuff yet," said Daniel in a knowing tone. "Well, as soon as you're done, I have a whole new side of aliens to show you. Other than Teal'c," he added as an afterthought.

"Do you have decent coffee?" Rothman asked hopefully.

Daniel nodded, and the invitation was essentially given and accepted. "Well, I have my own cataloguing to be done, and no research assistant...I'll see you later then, Robert." One hand still comfortably in his pocket, he took out the other one to give a solitary wave before turning to leave.

"Sure," Rothman called cheerfully after him before sighing and plucking at the seemingly random papers on his desk.

During the few steps to his own office, Daniel made a few decisions. One, only Dixon was allowed to be introduced to Rothman. While his old friend was intelligent, it was in a simple, straightforward way, which would have been quite good had it not been paired with an equally simple personality. Together, he came across a bit dull, tryingly so, to those who didn't know him. Mckay and Jack didn't take well to anyone even remotely grating, and what was likely to irritate one would irritate the other; Daniel wouldn't take the chance here. And Teal'c? Well, it was a bit like rolling dice to guess who he'd like, but as Rothman wasn't ready to meet him yet, that settled that.

He entered his office satisfied without even remembering why, as he became quickly engrossed in the backlog of information on and surrounding his desk. Ever since joining this place, he'd never had a lack of work to fill up time, and it didn't look like that would ever change.

ooooooo

Sam wasn't shaking, didn't find her muscles trembling, and something kept telling her that she was detached from her body. Jolinar had a quick form of determination that got her past all the stares, past all the crowds, and she now went up the stairs to the second floor of Toc'no's house where she shut the door and almost collapsed onto the chair. Maybe they weren't so disconnected after all.

_*I cannot believe what I have done.*_

_~Neither can I.~_

_*If there is but one strong dissenter, then we will be in terrible danger of death, or possibly worse.*_

Sam flinched. _~And yet you gutted that man.~_

_*Had he lived even a second longer, he would have spoken the words that would have sealed our fate then and there.*_

_~You couldn't have zatted him?~_

_*It would not have been proper. His death had to be one of swift punishment.*_

_~Jolinar, I can still feel his blood on my hands!~ _Sam felt her mind reeling, and Jolinar wasn't unaffected. She lowered her head, resting it in her hands.

_*You have never killed like that.*_

_~No,~ _Sam whispered back. _~I did not want to. I did not think that—~_

_*It is not always like that,* _Jolinar answered the half spoken question. _*But sometimes, it is necessary.*_

_~That's almost worse, that I can't see another way for it to have gone down.~_

_*Then let us put aside that point; I am sorry to have caused you trauma, but there is a much larger situation that should be causing you fear. And that is that we have vaulted ourselves to authority on this world.*_

Sam felt Jolinar give up control, and found that as soon as she could take a few deep breaths, the world started to clear up. _~You never were good at playing submissive, were you.~_

_*Which was why I needed your advice and input.*_

_~Perfect. Another communication error, and this time look what it causes?~_

_*And you don't even know half of it yet. This is a high profile world; Jaffa and slaves pass through many times each day, and Quetesh is spending an exorbitant amount of her limited resources on this temple. Toc'no, while not her first prime, was among her top commanders, and we have dared to take his place. Not only are we now responsible for the entire population and function of this world, but we will have to face Quetesh some day.*_

_~Damn.~ _There was no bite, no emotion to it. _~I should have jumped in sooner, taken control.~_

_*It might not have worked, if you hadn't had an alibi,* _Jolinar countered.

Sam appreciated the attempt, a little out of habit for Jolinar, but still thought it was a valid point. _~So what do we do now?~_

_*This is no longer a low profile mission. It was doubtful before, given the level of importance to Quetesh that the Abydonians apparently have, but all doubt is firm now. We cannot do this without it being well known to Tok'ra operatives on other worlds.*_

_~You mean they might know it was us?~_

_*It is not a certainty. But yes, it would appear very suspicious if they cared to look. Regardless, it will be a huge blow to Quetesh both practically and for morale. The only thing we can do at this point is limit the damage; keep the world running as well as before, perhaps more efficiently.*_

_~Aiding a Goa'uld...that hurts,~ _said Sam.

Jolinar hmmed, but added, _*It may not be all bad. Today was the worst, I believe.*_

Sam was inclined to trust Jolinar's intuition, especially when it came to this, even though today had been a shocker. She wasn't going to forget Toc'no and the way she sliced the life out of him; but maybe she could make that stain on her record worth it. The Abydonians were even more in their reach now, even if so many other things were not. And at this point, Sha're's wrenching disappointment had further added to the burden on Sam to make this one thing right. She could not stand being responsible for destroying Sha're's life twice.

Outside her mind, there was a sound at the door. Sam stood up to attention, remembering that she was fearless and proud and not giving Jolinar back the control this time. "Enter!" she called out with a hint of snap to it.

"You will find all the relevant documents in this room," said the Jaffa upon entering with a bow. "The people are now aware of your new position, and any further information and problems will be brought forward to you first."

"Good," said Sam shortly, with the briefest of nods. "I am proud of your expediency."

"I give my all for my lord, and whoever is representative of that divine power deserves no less," answered the Jaffa.

Sam looked him in the eye, and she didn't even need Jolinar's intuition to see the honesty there. "That is all," she finished.

The Jaffa bowed and left.

_*I am impressed, Samantha.*_

_~Not that it means much.~_

_*It will mean much when you are able to influence something, considering how much will be impossible for us. We cannot free Kasuf, or the Abydonians, with this power. In fact, we must do exactly the opposite.*_

_~I understand that.~_

_*At least we may return to the Tok'ra without fear once this is settled; privileges of leadership.* _Sam heard no lightness in her tone, only heavy acknowledgment of the one easy thing this had proved.

_~You're trying to hide what a huge mistake this was, aren't you?~_

_*Not willingly.*_

Sam sighed, closing her eyes for a few seconds. The shock of Toc'no's death was already fading, Jolinar's resignation seeping over to smother Sam's wracked nerves. And Sam welcomed it, almost in spite of herself; Jolinar had killed to save them both, save the Abydonians, maybe even the Tok'ra. Aside from the method, Sam couldn't say she wouldn't have done the same—just maybe not in time. That wasn't the cause for Sam's frustration.

_~So, let's get a plan, then. What the hell, exactly, have we gotten into, and how are we going to deal with it?~_

Sam could almost hear Jolinar's relieved sigh, and maybe even a grain of dry humor. _*It is a deep, fiery hell indeed, but not insurmountable. We're not doomed yet.*_

_~Always good to hear,~ _Sam answered.

She didn't even think to contact Narim as Jolinar pored over the papers, translating the Goa'uld for Sam so that they could quickly understand all that they had been bluffing to before. The further they went, the less commentary, leading Sam to the obvious answer that Jolinar had had no real idea of what Toc'no had done for this world. They had not taken on an easy task.

Had Sam chosen to make her unconscious rise to active thoughts, she would have known for sure that she and Jolinar were evading, even if it was the right time to do so. But her unconscious had worked before to keep her quietly unworried about everything all at once, and that was not changed. It was just getting harder to focus on one problem to the exclusion of others—ironic, given Jolinar's temperament and its influence on her. Sam's unconscious made it happen, though.

That night, Sam and Jolinar fell into sleep in the bed of a man they had killed almost with their bare hands. And did not dream about it. They sought to keep rule of an entire world; there was no time for emotions, no time for regrets, no time for dreams.


	40. Details

**Chapter 39 - Details**

The next day was the first step into hell. A slave brought prepared breakfast to Sam and Jolinar early in the day, and though they were already alert, it was all they could do to ignore him. They had no sympathy for slaves, not now, they couldn't. After eating the bare minimum, Jolinar determined that they needed to solidify their control.

And it was properly intuited, Sam realized as soon as they left the commander's complex. Murmurs, whispers, followed them as they scanned their new domain. No dirty looks—yet—and no outright demonstrations. But Sam knew as well as Jolinar just how proud the Jaffa were, and despite their allegations Toc'no had not been a bad leader. He had enough flaws to give their words worth, but more than anything Sam and Jolinar needed to prove that they were better.

And that would take time. To start, they would prove themselves Toc'no's equal. Hard, a little cold, dismissive of inferiors until they proved useful. The only thing that was not in Jolinar's favor for this role was her naturally impressive voice having to be stifled. Sam had been surprised that it did not bother her when they first pretended to be Jaffa, but Jolinar "used" her voice when they thought to each other, and so hearing it come from her own mouth barely affected Sam. It may have been because Jolinar's tone and words were always different; the distinction was handy among the Tok'ra for those who did not know them well, but anyone who did could tell the difference between the two, voice alteration or not.

After their first round, however, Sam hinted to Jolinar that being too proud would do them no good. She had succeeded for some through humility, through earnestness, as well as initiative. Dropping a few appreciative comments would not ruin the image, Sam assured her. And unlike yesterday, Jolinar amended her role just a little. Sam was proud of them both when the barely-heard comments diminished in a single day. Not gone, not yet, but they were already making progress.

_*It is easier to infiltrate a warrior society like this,* _Jolinar commented late in the day. _*The Goa'uld are proud but suspicious and selfish of their own power, and only cunning will take it from them. Jaffa respect power, and are willing to serve under a leader they trust.*_

_~They are a much better people than those who enslave them,~_ Sam agreed.

Even so, it was not a firm victory. And it wouldn't be, Jolinar told her, until an even higher authority approved. Hierarchy would win out in the end. In the meantime, the only thing they could do was build up a reputation that satisfied their claims.

By candlelight, Sam absorbed the information on the maps in Toc'no's quarters. She couldn't understand the words, but maps rarely needed words. Her finger traced over the lines of roads and rivers and ridges, from the vast farming fields stretching far beyond the settlement up to the temple and the Stargate on the high ground. The temple was being built in the foothills of a mountain range, with a lake to the north (or the top—the map had no compass) that fed the plains below with an exorbitant wetness. Sam didn't know much geography, but in a place as tropical as this part of the world, surely those fields must flood on a regular basis.

She tried to remember the offerings of the temple, and though there were foreign and bright-colored foods, there had also been a high amount of breads and grains, legumes, and spices. They must have been imported; Sam guessed that Quetesh was an Egyptian god like many of the other Goa'uld, and had acquired a taste for their cuisine. Why she chose this planet, then, was odd, given its Central American landscape. But that wasn't Sam's goal; she wondered, for the sake of this role, if there was anything inefficient to fix.

Water supply was not it; being in the foothills, there were aqueducts from cold mountain springs that could be warmed before entering the temple. Several wells graced the villages as well. Heat was also not an issue, given the water in the air and the sharp angle of the sun. Even their elevation did not alleviate it all. But with both heat and water, there came mud and exhaustion. Perhaps in the temple it was shady and cool, but even in one day there were two reports of a malfunction of some operation due to heat stroke of the slaves.

_~Help me, Jolinar; I'm not experienced in organizing a workforce, but there's got to be something wrong here.~_

_*From the Goa'uld point of view, possibly not,* _Jolinar commented. _*But given Quetesh's limited resources and sharp mind, she might approve of a more lenient and effective division of labor, even if her Jaffa are less willing.*_

_~Okay, maybe, but we can't ruin the standing we have here in hopes that Quetesh will weigh the idea and find it worth it.~_

_*True, but we can start with small steps.*_

_~Such as forcing the "weak" slaves to be put in confinement until they are worthy to serve?~_

_*Untraditional, but understandable. Yes.*_

_~And what about paving the roads and strengthening the levies in the fields, Roman style.~_

Jolinar paused to look over the pictures that Sam dredged from her memories of history classes to display in her mind. _*I have seen similar designs before, strangely enough. But regardless, it is good enough.*_

_~You know what else I'm thinking? Night shifts. Spread the duties so that there's always work going on. Less people in one spot, less traffic, less overseeing necessary, and houses can be shared.~_

_*That's going too far; a good plan, but not yet.*_

It was dark, the moon barely shining through the cloud cover, and Sam and Jolinar were weary. There had been anxiety and worry during the day, as well as a lot of energy spent on focusing on and absorbing everything they needed to know. They had to appear as if they knew exactly how this place ran, and exactly how it should run. Sam might have picked up on a few ideas, but that didn't necessarily mean anything. After all, they were just good guesses. Sam had always led based on orders; Jolinar had given those orders to others. Neither had management experience, and it was a terrifying prospect.

Still, with two minds on the task, nothing could be truly called impossible. That was one thing the Jaffa didn't have, and both Sam and Jolinar were determined to make it work for them in this circumstance.

ooooooo

"Ow! Hey, stop that!"

Daniel could recognize those sharp tones a mile off, and he was surprised that he didn't hear an answering rebuke from Janet. As he looked in the infirmary, however, he saw that Janet was nowhere in sight.

Mckay's bed was tilted upright in a seated position, his hand unbandaged for the first time since the injury as far as Daniel knew. A doctor that Daniel did not recognize was trying very hard not to frown as she supported his hand and held some instrument in hers. Of course, Daniel was curious as to why.

"Be careful—that can't be fixed if it's broken, you know!" Mckay protested as the doctor did something.

"Dear god, Doctor Mckay, if you can't understand that I'm an expert then I have no faith in the intelligence of the base's population," the doctor said with rising frustration still contained in her tone. Daniel came close enough to read the tag on her coat—Dr. Brymon. She appeared in her mid-to-late thirties, round faced and of average height, a dark brunette with distracting wisps of hair curling from around her regulation topknot.

"Jackson, what do you want?" Mckay asked, noticing Daniel as he stood on Mckay's right side.

"Something going on?" Daniel asked, a hint of innocence in his tone.

"Dr. Daniel Jackson?" asked Dr. Brymon. Daniel nodded and she offered a hand. "Lois Brymon, physiotherapist."

Daniel shook it warmly. "I didn't realize we had that need; pleasure to meet you, though."

"Oh, I deal with physical training as well, mostly for non-military recruits," Brymon answered, effectively ignoring Mckay in a way that had Daniel impressed, and the scientist ticked off. "But unfortunately, there is a call for my specialty as well."

"If you can call poking an injury a specialty, beyond the usual horrors of what Frasier calls modern medicine," Mckay grumbled, dragging the other two's attention back somewhat reluctantly.

Daniel looked inquiringly to Brymon, and she sighed. "It is essential to keep track of the nature of the damage, which in this case involves serious neural disrupture." She indicated the wound, and Daniel felt obliged to look.

Even six days after the bite, it looked sickly and pale, at least where the skin was undamaged. Thicker spines and some spines clustered together had torn parts of Mckay's hand, adding small gashes to the overall puncture wounds that covered it. Swollen, in some areas slightly inflamed, and in others looking clammy and marked by dead tissue, it was a ghastly sight. Daniel didn't enjoy the view, and couldn't begrudge Mckay for any more-than-usual snippiness, especially if it hurt as much as it seemed to.

"Is that good?" he asked after a slight swallow.

"Oh yes," Brymon answered, eyebrows rising a little. "Judging by his condition now, it is likely that the serious damage is minimal. It may take a few weeks to show any progress at all, but I have no doubt that it will happen."

"I'm right here," Mckay protested.

"Yes," said Brymon, swinging her head towards him. "And when you have a civilized and/or relevant comment, I will oblige your ego with a response." She closed her eyes and exhaled. "Well, that was unprofessional of me."

Mckay gave her the eye.

"Believe me, any little pain now will be worth the recovery," Brymon continued, speaking directly to Mckay.

"I don't believe it, but as nothing I say will get you to do otherwise, do what you came to do," Mckay conceded. Had both his arms been free, Daniel had no doubt he would have crossed them. As it was, he settled for just a not-going-willingly look.

"Apart from this, how are you doing?" Daniel asked Mckay, trying to distract him as Dr. Brymon lightly touched various areas of his hand to check for sensation.

His attitude was gone, and a slight nervousness remained. "There is nothing to do here," he said, flinching a little at each touch. "And not only can I not go to my lab, I am not allowed near any chemicals that aren't medicinal, nor any electrical currents or energy fields. Which means that the theoretical part of my title? Gets a lot more use than usual."

Daniel nodded, feeling automatic sympathy for the weary boredom in the mans' voice. Mckay was tough to live with (not that Daniel thought he himself was easy, but that was no matter), but he and Daniel shared a same basic instinct that covered a multitude of sins. "Well, the team's off missions along with you," he said.

"So no gloating?" Mckay answered.

"No," Daniel said with a slight smile.

Mckay nodded, trying to hide a mixture of relief and pleasure that Daniel caught anyway. He wasn't that great of an actor, and his attachment to the team he hadn't wanted to join was becoming apparent.

"Well, I have a lot of backlog to go through," Daniel said with a sigh, "so I'm just as limited. I think Jack and Dixon will be accompanying some return trips to various planets, but Teal'c and I are here if you need anything, you know."

"I really don't think Teal'c's role is called for here," said Mckay with a significant look.

Daniel nodded with a bit of a smile. "Possibly not. Although Jaffa entertainment might be interesting; not something he discusses, but who knows?"

"Well, all done now," said Brymon, making the last mark on her chart. "Dr. Mckay, you will not lose basic function of your hand."

"Really?" Mckay looked to her, nervousness gone.

"No, I lied to you," she intoned, rolling her eyes. They shared a slight glare, and she continued. "I will have a physical therapy schedule ready, and we can work the first steps later this week. I'll talk to Frasier about making sure you're taking good care of it while you're here."

With a nod of farewell, Daniel finished his curious visit and went on to his own business.

ooooooo

One advantage to dealing with slaves instead of free populations was that they didn't have many questions for their authorities. Not "are you qualified?", or "did you win fair and square?". Just, "do you have the right?" And that was much easier to answer. Sam and Jolinar made it through their first full day with a few bumps and hurdles, but the dawn of the second had no such issues.

It did, however, have its own. Most of the Jaffa accepted, even if still perhaps slightly grudgingly, that Sam and Jolinar (going by the name of Coron) were in command, and brought all of their complaints and problems to them accordingly. Jolinar found herself floundering in the mass of concerns and thoughts that distracted from her focus. She was on the edge of losing her control. Sam jumped in, more at ease with the chaos, but her lack of knowledge had her on edge in case she might say something wrong. And they couldn't afford a mistake; Sam and Jolinar's lines of communication stayed busy through the whole day, sharing the information the only way they could, even if it meant that Jolinar had no time to regain a cool-headed view of the situation.

They did get things done, though. At the first report of exhaustion, Sam ordered that the weak slaves be imprisoned for their impotence, and that the stronger slaves be forced to do their work. It was just enough to keep the sting of guilt tolerable; better heaping burden on those who could handle it than work those who couldn't to death. After all, they were there to fix this, eventually. They just had to be patient.

Those were just the slaves, as well. The Jaffa, Sam and Jolinar among them, festered in their heavy metal armor as the sun rose and scorched the earth. Flies buzzed, the only clouds in the clear air, and the clay beneath their feet only reflected the heat back like an oven wall. It was torment, and the Jaffa showed it. But Jolinar's frustration backed hers, and this time they didn't let it get the best of them. Sam funneled it into forcing every muscle to obey and maintain the outward appearance of control. It was the one thing that would keep the Jaffa in line, a reminder of who was leading and why they deserved it.

It was almost the last thing of the day, but Sam remembered another idea. Jolinar hesitated, cautioning against the possible sign of weakness, but Sam had her knowledge.

_~If there is one thing that these Jaffa are striving for, it is honor and glory, in whatever form. If their CO gives them that, their pride, no matter how little inflated, will not let them see it as a choice of weakness.~_

_*And those who are not chosen?*_

Sam took a moment for thought, and then came back with her answer.

Keeping her tone firm and smooth, she called the four Jaffa who had been least supportive of her. Not saying why, just giving the order to bring back continual reports, she placed sections of the world under their charge. _~Those who are loyal already, will stay so; those who are not yet, I have now given the gift of power.~_

_*You may not be a warrior, but you have the makings of a powerful leader,* _Jolinar answered.

And there was no backlash. Toc'no may have known enough about the planet to keep it all straight, but neither Sam nor Jolinar noticed any Jaffa assuming that Coron should know the same. Not yet. Succeeding this far had put her in a place where she was owed a chance.

_*Even more so,* _Jolinar commented as the daylight fell and the temperatures and composures settled, _*they have no other recourse; they would not dare to usurp another commander after such a recent coup. It would be blasphemy. You would have to provide an overwhelming error to even move their minds in that direction.*_

_~Which makes me think we might trick our way through this,~ _Sam answered with a sigh of satisfaction.

_*Don't let it all loose yet. We have barely scratched the surface of the situation.*_

_~I know, but if bad luck got us here, we seemed to have beat it back. I'm just hoping it'll hold out long enough to find and execute a plan.~_

Jolinar had no difference in her thoughts, and for a moment there was silent.

But it was only a brief respite, and the next report had the hurried communication and planning back in full gear. There was no rest for them until long after the torches were lit, and by then, only enough time to collapse onto the bed and trust the Jaffa sense of privacy to keep them from noticing the very odd way of performing kel'no'reem.

Sleep was all well and good, but the blunt fact was that it only kept things on an even keel. It didn't give Sam or Jolinar a shortcut, a cheat sheet, or even an emotional advantage. Until now, they had been used to long periods of silence, both mental and physical; they were both finding it hard work to keep every relevant thought conscious enough so that the other might hear. It was easy for most thoughts to stay just unconscious enough to be silent to Jolinar, and took concentration to keep them all above board. Worse, it wasn't even natural, and so interruptions and repetitions occurred regularly. Sam hated it, and given Jolinar's only barely more frustrated attitude, Sam suspected that she had been feeling this way ever since joining with Sam and losing the automatic communication of full blending.

After a quiet time of reflection and breakfast, it was back to the chaos of the world that Jolinar had only caught the local name of yesterday: Dorieth. It was a strange name with no obvious meaning, but it was better than "Quetesh's world". Sam tried to keep a mental chart of each aspect of their command with Jolinar's help, but the less-than-ideal circumstances of this world led only to unpredictability. Resupply groups coming through the Stargate, construction accidents at the temple, a cart stuck in the mud blocking a main road, a Jaffa acting out in heat-anger and incapacitating several slaves, a whole set of lamps gone missing, heat-anger again causing insubordination among the lower echelons of Jaffa, news of another victory giving Jaffa cause to cheer and hope secretly for reinforcements, evidence of a storm brewing west of the mountains.

It was overwhelming, even with the delegation of so much responsibility, and the concentration and communication going on inside their heads was wearying. It had to be done. And it was some relief that it was going well. The worn out slaves took their rest and did not halt the work going on, and even though the stronger ones were headed towards burnout themselves, Sam predicted (trying not to get her personal feelings for the poor people involved) that the "weaker" ones would be recovered by then. Overall, they would make more progress.

While inspecting the progress going on in the temple construction personally, the relative darkness and cooler temperature gave Sam a flash of peace. She thought wistfully of the quiet of the Tok'ra base, and felt a twinge of chagrin that she had not remembered her father. How was he doing? Did he talk to Selmak? Would he choose to become a host? What would that mean? And then, at the approach of a Jaffa with an update, it was gone.

Sleep deprivation, an abandoned torch, and what resulted was a midday fire in one of the buildings that housed the slaves. The humidity led to dark clouds of smoke, and the fire was quickly put out. But that meant that there was not enough secure space, and slaves had to be recalled from transporting and organizing the tributes that came through the gate to rearrange bare cots and sacks to double up the space in two of the remaining buildings.

The tribute backlogged quickly, and Sam and Jolinar hastily decided to institute an assembly line of transport between the gate and the temple. It wouldn't have increased speed, except that walking up and down the varying ground was tiring and even the sharp commands of the Jaffa couldn't make the slaves go faster at the end of the day. This way, they only had to walk a few steps back and forth. It wasn't very Jaffa, and there were a few unsure looks, but when the backlog was gone at the end of the day, doubts were assuaged.

Returning to their dwelling, Jolinar finally remembered their hyperspace transmitter and the waiting Narim. Sam sighed, realizing that she had completely forgotten, and they found a quiet place to contact him. It was a simple device, and Narim was waiting on the other end.

"_You are well?" _he asked to start off.

"Yes, our mission is going well, if busily," Sam answered.

"_There has been only slight progress here,"_ he continued. _"The Tok'ra's demand for more security on the technology they give us has been met with strong disapproval. My people wish to receive the complete technology, not merely the theories. We are able to reproduce variants over time, but it is not effective enough, or so says the Curia."_

"So it will take a while?" Sam confirmed, thinking over the limited bartering that the Tok'ra were willing to undergo. Narim knew exactly what technologies the Tok'ra prepared to give in their entirety, and exactly which that they wished to keep secret, in case the Goa'uld ever discovered them.

"_You have nothing to worry about,"_ he answered firmly.

"I'm in a precarious position here, so I need to let you go," Sam said.

"_Of course,"_ said Narim. There was a slight ping on her device as he sent over some information. _"If there is any update you need to give me in response to this, please contact me again soon."_

And then the connection ended. Sam had no time to go over it, and so she and Jolinar went to sleep again.

There was no time the next day either. The mud on the roads was still causing trouble for transportation, even though it had been many days since the last rain. With a storm brewing, it wouldn't get better any time soon. Sam decided that now was the time to bring her first major change.

There were naquadah mines in the mountains, and the refineries sent the non-naquadah gravel to abandoned quarries. Sam recruited some of the Jaffa keeping patrol over the slaves to start carting the gravel to the main road from the settlement down to the farms. The slaves who were responsible for maintaining the touchy roads were given new commands, to start digging down into the mud to provide a trench. It was slow work, and the carts had to be rerouted, but no one could deny that it was an obvious improvement as the gravel was laid in the trenches foot by foot. And there were no slave revolts as a result of the fewer Jaffa keeping guard; any other time, Sam would have bemoaned their beat-down attitude, but in this case it kept her plans from being suspicious.

During the day, Sam kept a close watch on the paving of the road, and so did not notice each time the gate activated. It was evening when a messenger ran up to her.

"News, Master Coron," he said, breathless and excited. "Our great god Quetesh will deign this planet with her presence in two days' time."

_*Too soon,* _was Jolinar's first thought, coming automatically.

Sam nodded, accepting the message. She had no words to respond out loud. _~Whoa, that's not good. This place is a mess, the temple isn't done, and thank god we didn't start anything else.~_

_*It will not be disastrous. We double the slaves on the temple and the road, get all those in confinement down in the fields to keep them maintained just enough until after Quetesh leaves.*_

_~The storm? It will be here any day.~_

_*Will not the surges leave the unpaved road soft and ready to work?*_

_~Or wash away our progress.~_

_*Then we put slats over it for protection, just in case; I doubt the surges will be that strong, however, and the gravel has been pounded firmly. In any case, what would we have eventually added on top?*_

_~Flat stones, but not until the temple was finished and we had more workers. We'll have to make do with gravel.~_

_*With all the hurry, the temple may be done sooner. At least outwardly.*_

_~I still can't figure out what its purpose is. The pieces come already assembled, and no one seems to suspect anything but that they're for construction. They'd be lighter, cheaper, easier to assemble, if that was their only purpose.~_

_*Maybe we won't know—someone's coming, can't be distracted.*_

And Sam focused on the road again. With Jolinar only taking control for small portions of each day due to her frustration with all the complexities, Sam was rapidly learning this role through immersion. Jolinar with only the mental aspect to deal with was much less of a worry to Sam, which led to more ease for her, which circled back to ease Jolinar and so forth. But this caused worry for them both.

Quetesh would have come back eventually, but they had planned for more progress than this before that. If the storm caused any damage, it would take time to repair, and it might not be completed by the time that she arrived. Not to mention that she might not be in a good mood, or their assessment of her response to this Coron taking over for Toc'no might be off. Suddenly they had not only Dorieth to worry about.

But then, Sam had to remember as the fourth full day of their command drew to closing, the sooner Quetesh visited, the sooner Sam and Jolinar could return to the Tok'ra without fear of missing her arrival. Once they were accepted in front of all by their god, they would have no worry in finding excuses for absences from time to time. It would do them well, if they could convince her.

_*She's unpredictable when it comes to personal matters, but ice cold in her planning. If we can remain professional and logical, there is a good chance that she will as well. There is no need to think we will fail, not yet.*_

Night fell, and Sam for the first time was grateful that Jolinar had a Goa'uld past. Her knowledge of Quetesh looked like it would be their saving grace. She refused to acknowledge the fear that it might also be their downfall. First things first, though, and this news didn't lessen the horde of other concerns to be balanced and dealt with tomorrow, the day after that, and hopefully the many days beyond that. One thing could be balanced now, and that was sleep.


	41. Leadership

**Chapter 40 - Leadership**

Infiltration was a guilty pleasure, so Sam thought. Even without Jolinar, she felt the surge of excitement and pride at the ability to embody another role, to succeed in a way that she would not have done as herself. Even if it meant coming down hard on people she swore to protect; even if it meant embracing the side of herself that she wasn't supposed to enjoy. But Jolinar knew all that, and her support of Sam was enough for Sam to believe she hadn't gone too far yet.

Even so, there were conflicting times. The first time she saw Kasuf, he looked at her with shock, certain that she had been lying the whole time to him. Whatever his role on this planet was, it was not within Sam's authority to change, and so she saw him little after that. It was good that he was thoroughly convinced—and yet, she had not wanted to break his trust, even if for both their sakes.

And now, as she gave new orders for the planet to be prepared for Quetesh, she was feeling oddly authentic. It wasn't an act. She really did want Quetesh to be pleased. And her motivation was almost accurate too, so that she wouldn't be killed for her failure. To be sure, there was that deeper motivation of keeping her position so that she could betray it and rescue the Abydonians, but it didn't come up that often.

_*If you can be the role without losing yourself, go ahead,* _Jolinar advised her in the morning. _*There will always be things to remind you of your true self.*_

And so Sam did, because there was much more to think about than the outside perspective on their mission. The dark clouds, saturated with rain, were drawing close to the green peaks. There were only hours before the deluge would stop all work, and Sam and Jolinar had to determine that nothing would be lost.

A half mile had been paved just yesterday, leading from the temple down to the village, and the gravel in carts beside it had to be hurried out of sight. There was nothing to be done about the fields; even the water resistant plants growing there were not built to withstand the storm surges coming down from the mountains. Some would be damaged; Sam wished now that she had had time to get a better drainage system of levies in place. As it was, there was no cover or protection, and that was that.

The temple itself was almost ready. The inner chambers were fully built, and the rooftop over the main court and veranda was set. At the peak, some pieces were not fully installed, and Jolinar ordered that they be dealt with immediately. Some were roped down if they were out of sight, others were firmly attached ahead of schedule.

And inside, the furnishings were carefully arranged and given their last cleaning; there would be no time tomorrow. There was a three-tier system to the temple, with a nearly public outer court and some smaller rooms branching off of it to house tributes and personal and temple slaves. Further in, there was the grand court with its dais and gold-inlaid walls covered with intricate tapestries. Even still, leading from a door behind one of the curtains, there was the holy of holies, Quetesh's chamber itself. Two of her most personal slaves had come several weeks past to prepare it personally, and the door had been locked ever since. No one was allowed, both to preserve the divinity of Quetesh and (as Sam and Jolinar saw instantly) for the practical reason of security. Quetesh might be as beloved as a tyrant could be, but she wouldn't let that lull her into carelessness.

But though no one had reason to go slowly, the rain began to dimple the soft clay before everything was done. Large drops began to batter everything in sight, and as Jolinar gave the final order to get under cover, lightning lit the cloud-darkened settlement and sent the metal-clad Jaffa to safety as fast as any lowly slave. Jolinar and Sam stood on the top step, barely out of the torrential rain. Anyone who looked would see them where they stood, and they intended to be seen without worry or hurry. _*Never give up a chance for a good impression,* _Jolinar explained. But she didn't need to; Sam understood the concept well enough.

Thunder roared down from the mountains as lightning struck their tips. Jolinar looked up as a bolt struck the top of the temple, sending curious blue lightning down to where it disappeared in the grounded structure. Soon enough the rain was too heavy to see through and the winds picked it up, carrying it past the roof of the temple and driving Jolinar to back up. There was warmth in the inner court, but Jolinar did not want to settle down yet. Rumbles, crackles, and the neverending pounding of the rain on the metal roofs built up the cacophony of the storm. And yet, it was quieter than any other day.

Without any immediate concerns, Sam suddenly realized just how busy their minds had been over the last few days. The quiet felt strange, odd, even if the release from mental strain was most welcome. And instead of retreating to hide in silence, they stood and let the sound overwhelm their senses, beat out the tension, cleanse their minds with unrelenting pressure. An hour, maybe more, later, and a sweet empty weariness filled them. Jolinar finally retired to the inner court, sitting and absorbing the warmth and gentle white noise that was all the rain made from inside. Neither she nor Sam spoke.

And then it ended. Hours after it began, the rain suddenly slowed, and the lack of sound felt out of place at first. Venturing forth, they saw that the clouds were no longer black with water saturation, but were traveling out past the fields and beyond in a light grey-white. There were a couple small snaps of lightning, and the sound of random dripping, but the storm was essentially over.

No more time for rest, Jolinar began to overlook the drenched and battered settlement for damages. A couple smaller buildings uprooted and carried a few feet were the only obvious signs. Looking closer, there were many leaks, many buildings swamped with overflowing mud, and everywhere was deep, sticky mud. No one needed to be told, but Jolinar gave the orders anyway and everyone went back to work.

Buildings were swept out as best they could be, roofs were patched, and every spare sack or blanket was used to stem the water. It was evening by the time the basic essentials were handled, and Sam started to worry even more. The road from the gate to the temple was completely untraversable, and Quetesh would be here tomorrow. To carry her in would be impossible given the depth of the mud; there was no time to pave it. Calling together the slaves tending to lesser concerns, Sam made an executive decision.

The carts of gravel were scattered loosely along the surface of the road, and the dry branches left over from harvesting firewood were placed on top. And over it all, a layer of weeds and foliage that had just started to compost. The gravel mixed with the mud, the branches held it somewhat in place, and with the compost cover over it all, at least no one sunk or slipped. It was temporary and just a little crudely built, but it would have to suffice.

Sam kept the lights going past curfew as all strove vainly to hide the effects of the summer storm. And when it was finally acceptable, she and Jolinar retired to their housing as before. Sleep would not come easy that night.

ooooooo

P3X-130 would have to go on the very short list of worlds Daniel had been allowed to go to without an escort. It wasn't anything against Daniel personally, so he was told; the galaxy was a dangerous place, sometimes even on safe planets. But this world? No, the only thing he had to worry about was the weather, and no escort would help with that.

The original science team had brought back conflicting geologic records that had led to a long study resulting in the knowledge that, apart from occasional core fluctuations of extreme heat, the planet was very consistently warm. More dry than tropical, but the fluctuations would bring severe changes to that. Not a good place for a military or science base, nor did the Goa'uld have any use for it. Daniel had to admire Jack, he'd picked the perfect world for the relocated Abydonians. Granted, there weren't millions of choices, but still, it seemed almost inspired.

Daniel felt the heat of the sun begin baking his face as soon as he stepped through the gate, but only for a second. The Abydonians were waiting, and all immediately smothered him with refreshingly un-self-conscious physical displays of their affection for him. He smiled beneath their hands patting his hair, his shoulders, his back, some of the smallest children hugging his legs. Their scent was of earth, sweat, family. Oh, how he'd missed them too.

"My people, my people!" he heard Adros' voice over the chaos. Slowly they backed away, and Daniel felt the sun on him again. "Welcome back, Dan'yel," Adros said, and Daniel saw on his brown face that he was trying oh so hard to be dignified and not grin like a mad fool.

"Adros," he said, slipping into the phonetics of Abydonian as if he had never left them. From there, the language was only a short step as he walked up to Adros. "You are serving your people well, I see."

They clasped arms warmly, and Adros put an arm around Daniel's shoulder to lead him away from the gate. "We are finding happiness again," Adros said. "Even as we wait for the day when our rightful leaders return." He glanced briefly to Daniel.

Daniel was all for keeping cultures intact, not meddling with their worldviews until they moved beyond them naturally, but the hereditary leadership of the Abydonians had proved problematic. Kasuf was gone, his children likewise, and only Daniel was left as connected to what essentially was the "ruling family". Since Daniel refused, and since the others were lost, the Abydonians saw every decision they made as temporary.

The process had been slow and crushing to even get them to believe that the SGC could not rescue their lost people. All the SG teams were supposed to be on the lookout for anything about Quetesh, but so far there had been absolutely nothing. And as such a small goddess, it seemed more and more strange that she should have been the one on Abydos. Maybe Jolinar had had a change of heart from Goa'uld to whatever she was; maybe it had even been an accident. He still trusted that Sam hadn't betrayed them willingly, but the rest was still up in the air.

Regardless, the Abydonians were left almost leaderless, would remain so for an indefinite time, and Daniel's visit provided a renewal of their strength. He was happy to oblige. Now was the time, the only time perhaps, when he had no other missions to take his time.

The warmth that emanated from the very rocks as well as the sky shot through to his bones, placing him back on Abydos where the days were long and never cold. The nights may have sent them all to bed with chills, some gratefully sharing warmth with another, but the days made up for it. Here, with the core of the earth nearer to the surface, even as the sun disappeared the warmth remained. Daniel was surrounded by it, embraced by it, just as much as by the people whom he had once named as family.

No feast had been prepared, for no crops had been brought to harvest yet. Indeed, it was doubtful what kind of crops would grow here; the geologists were still mapping these things out. Instead of taking MREs, though, the Abydonians had insisted on receiving the ingredients of their choice to make their own foods. Far from home, they still wanted home with them. Daniel was absurdly pleased to see that they agreed that mastagore tasted like chicken, and placed that old familiar bird in the same place on the table. Other than that, though, it was the simplest of fares.

Daniel spent the night mostly talking with Adros, though often joined by others who had been close to Kasuf and his family before the attack. The feel of the Abydonian words in his throat and mouth was like an exercise in memory and instinct all at once. They talked of problems with this world, problems with the people now moved here, and Daniel gave his own opinion even though he knew they would take it as advice. There was nothing else he could do and not appear rude.

But as the night wore on, and Daniel relished the continuing warmth from no fire, they began to speak of joys and successes. Of births, marriages, comings of age, triumphs over this strange nature, and everything Daniel had ever wanted to experience with Sha're. It was a bittersweet joy that filled him, but it was joy nonetheless.

He slept in a bed that they prepared for him, and night emptied him of emotions. By the time he woke, still comfortably warm, he realized that he could not live like this. Not without Sha're. Maybe not even with her, if he ever had the chance to test his attachment to his team. Until he had another purpose for his life, he would look forward to upcoming missions.

ooooooo

Morning on Dorieth came with a cool fog that filtered the sun. Quetesh's arrival was unscheduled, and so everything that could be done was started immediately. The fog burned off swiftly, and Sam and Jolinar stood once again on the temple steps and looked up and down over the prospect. It was hard to remember what it had looked like, weeks ago, when everything was as it should be under Toc'no. But if Sam could remember at all, this was close enough.

And then, the gate began to dial. A Jaffa flashed a signal down, and Sam's heart began to race as she made her way to the top. The road squished beneath her feet just enough for her to make mark of it, but she made good time. She saw the kawoosh from a short distance off, and by the time Quetesh's guards had made sure the scene was clear, the goddess herself walked through.

Sam had no idea that she would look like that. Granted, she'd had limited experience with female Goa'uld, but especially given her reputation, she'd built up a picture of Quetesh in her mind. Blond, buxom, every feature porcelain perfect—her experience was partially influenced by the Tok'ra hosts she'd seen in expecting the lighter coloring. Quetesh didn't match. Her creamy smooth complexion was framed by dark hair, illuminating most plainly her strong features—mouth, cheekbones, nose—with only her large eyes following Sam's exaggerated beauty picture. She was beautiful still, but the firm lines of her silhouette spoke of power more than delicacy, intimidation more than submission.

"Where is Toc'no?" she opened with, eyes darting around and past Sam.

_*Flatter her, but not too much,* _Jolinar gave as her most important piece of advice.

"Toc'no was slain for his betrayal of you, my lord," Sam answered.

Quetesh stared her down, eyes piercing. "And what was that betrayal?"

"Questioning your most perfect will on this world," Sam answered, meeting her with the look of near-humility that through all those years in the Air Force she had perfected. "His weakness showed plainly as soon as he opposed you, only doing so once you were far from here." She added the last half as Jolinar pushed the concept to her.

Quetesh's eyes narrowed and she took a step forward, her glinting grey-green gown tinkling in the mid-morning silence. "Who are you?" she demanded in a low tone.

"Coron, my lord," Sam answered, trying not to breathe in too quickly.

"I did not see Toc'no as weak," Quetesh answered.

_*You can't contradict her,* _Jolinar cautioned.

"Only where it mattered most," Sam responded to Quetesh.

Quetesh said nothing, but her cold gaze didn't detach from Sam's. "I will go to my temple now," she finally said.

Sam nodded, bowing her head. "This way, my lord." With head still slightly lowered, she nodded to her Jaffa and began walking down the path.

_*That is as much concession as we will get for now; she intends to deal with this more fully later,* _Jolinar said as commentary.

_~Is it paranoid of me to be afraid of what that dealing might entail?~_

_*No, just that you have been observant when we have been discussing her.*_

Quetesh did not mention the makeshift road, nor any damage that might be visible to the discerning eye. Her gaze didn't seem to linger on any one thing as they passed through, not even on the slaves lined up and kneeling by the road, their knees inches deep in soft mud but not looking as if they cared that their possibly only dry clothing was being soiled. Their god had stooped to this level, and so they were not allowed to have cares.

Jolinar was being helpful in keeping Sam's heart rate steady, her breathing consistent and not too fast. They were nearing the temple, and did not know what Quetesh would do then. It loomed above them, suddenly looking dangerous as Quetesh came to claim it as her own. What did it do, Sam had to wonder once more, and was this a terrible mistake?

The temple steps, washed clean of the mud and mopped as dry as could be, stood empty for the first time in the day. Quetesh paused, ordered her own Jaffa in Goa'uld, and walked up them. Jolinar had no need to translate for Sam as it was clear that the Jaffa were taking the perimeter. Aside from Sam and Jolinar and their one escort, only Quetesh and a slave were left entering the temple.

The lush smell of the sun-warmed after-storm filled the open outer court, belying the bright torch-lit interior. Everything shone, or at least passively reflected splashes of colors and patterns, around every corner and on every wall. The floors were smooth and polished, and Sam and her Jaffa's boots clicked loudly compared to the leather and silver slippers of Quetesh (and the sandals on her slave). It was empty of all worshippers, but Quetesh looked around once, and her face remained passive with only the hint of satisfaction in her smirk.

She nodded to her slave, who left silently for the inner sanctum, and Sam did the same to her Jaffa who walked to stand guard at the entrance.

"I see no need to end your life," Quetesh said, her voice low and only barely reverberating in the room. _*Yet,* _Jolinar said, vocalizing what they were all thinking. "You have not destroyed that which is mine. And," she added, suddenly facing Sam and giving her a closer look, "I did not expect any success."

Sam's worries didn't leave when Quetesh gave her a long look, up and down, speaking after a moment. "No female among my Jaffa has ever gained the respect that I see granted to you. That armor hides your figure well." She looked up at Sam's face, the self-satisfied smirk resting naturally on her lips. "I will hear your case in two hours' time; see that you do not disgrace my chambers with such unnecessary clanking." Turning on her heel, she swept across the hall with long, smooth strides towards her own room.

_~She meant the armor, right?~ _Sam clarified, letting her breath out slowly.

_*Indeed she did. We have been summoned to a conference of leaders, not master and slave.*_

_~That's good?~_

_*That is dangerous. Her testing is not over—we may never know when it is fully over—but she will expect Coron the proud leader. I cannot tell you all you need to know for how you must act, because it will not be the same as with the Jaffa. But there is yet a possibility that she will suspect me, knowing how I speak.*_

Sam still had control, going swiftly back to her chambers so they could change. _~Yeah, I don't have enough experience with this side. But why should you fear her recognition?~_

_*I can achieve much in altering how I sound and appear, but my essence is the same, and I will not be able to forego all the movements that are particular to me, and it is also true for my words. Quetesh is observant, always, and she has not forgotten my former betrayal.*_

_~Oh, you betrayed her?~_

_*It is a long story, but the answer is yes and no. It is a matter of perspective.*_

_~No, this time I understand; you don't need to explain now.~ _ Sam focused on her thoughts, letting the control shift back to Jolinar, who immediately dropped her careful managing of Sam's body to strip the armor now that they were in their quarters. Jolinar had kept the physical manifestations of anxiety to a minimum, but to the detriment of Sam's mind. She was too nervous, and it wasn't going to help Jolinar. Already, she could feel it feedback into and from her symbiote. But it wasn't panic, thankfully, and her body's calm lent her the focus she needed to wipe her thoughts smooth.

Jolinar finished taking of the armor, and then shedding the protective undergarment. It had been warm and humid today, and there was a light sheen over arms, legs, and face. Splashing with a little warm water, Jolinar sponged herself down and let the air evaporate the water to cool herself. The humidity on this planet had challenged Jolinar's usual hair gel and so they had gone without, even though it did not matter under the skull cap. However, as leader they would not wear the cap, and so Jolinar had been making do with simply combing Sam's hair back. It was growing long and silky with all the moisture, and while it didn't quite detract from their tough image, it certainly didn't add to it either. But for this evening, they had been ordered to relax just a little.

All Jaffa on this world who were not in uniform wore the traditional long robes in softly woven colors. Jolinar chose a lighter weight, blue-grey one. It was formless, except for the slightly shaping sash from shoulder to hip, but the cut was not billowingly massive. After the short sponge bath, it felt comfortably warm.

That was not their purpose, though. Jolinar called her Jaffa aide to her, informed him of Quetesh's will, and received the reports of what had gone on after the greeting party assembled. Things were to run as silently and efficiently as possible while Quetesh was here, inconspicuous but busy, and Sam and Jolinar would have to rely completely on their subordinate commanders if Quetesh kept them detained for long. Simply giving out the detailed orders for the rest of the day took over an hour.

That left merely half an hour to finish preparing for their audience with Quetesh. Physically, they were completely ready. It was early afternoon and they were in the coolest place aside from the temple; emotions were all calmed down. Unlike the usual con, Jolinar had to put extra effort into her preparations. Sam could hear her trying to excise her opinions, her memories, her turns of phrase, to leave only the personality of Coron. There was so much that was in their favor, Sam thought, but for once Jolinar stuck to the Tok'ra tradition and over-prepared. Then again, Sam still had almost no idea who Quetesh was to Jolinar—nor the other way around.

The conclusion appeared satisfactory, as Jolinar cooled any remaining anxieties and returned to the temple. Steam was beginning to rise where the sun had baked with no break since rising, but the mud still squished beneath them. Their robes were long and Jolinar's leather boots were tactfully hidden beneath. The sun had just heated the back of their neck where the cowl did not cover to the point of a tiny beadlet of sweat, when they reached the temple steps. Quietly, they reached the top, shedding their boots for the almost moccasin-like clean shoes beneath them.

Finally, they walked further and further into the temple until they approached the chamber whose contents no one knew. Quetesh's one silent slave saw their arrival and ducked into the chamber. They had only to wait a few seconds before she came back, nodded, and held the door for them to enter. It shut behind them with a slight click, and they were bathed in the glory of Quetesh's personal chamber.

It was almost like the inner court, with the gold and jewels on every wall and rich lighting and tapestries to go with them. But the falling curtains from the ceiling, and the lack of dais or steps, added to the intimacy. A table near the front was laid with many of the supplies that Sam had seen delivered to the temple, as well as cooked food that must have been requested and brought during Sam's absence. But apart from the table and a more comfortable version of the throne in the formal chamber, there was nothing of note. As of course there would not be.

Quetesh sat as if it was a condescension to sit on her throne, resting her divine arms on its unworthy winged sides. And yet she conquered it, did not fully relax. She looked up to Sam and Jolinar with as much power as if she were towering over them. Those eyes had been cold before; the glittering fire in them now creeped Sam out.

"Coron, my self-proclaimed loyal servant," Quetesh drawled. "Do you always follow your god to the very last character?" Her eyes didn't glance up to the Goa'uld clock, but Jolinar knew that they were exactly on time.

Jolinar didn't answer. No answer would work, falling either to the sycophantic side or the insolent one. Neither could be afforded, and so she settled for the neutral option, standing erect and still.

"Sit, and give me your report," Quetesh demanded, flicking her finger towards the nearby table.

And so they sat, and started just after the beginning, as if the mutiny against Toc'no was unimportant. It was a detail adeptly skipped over, and Quetesh's level stare did not reveal how much she put on that aspect. Jolinar didn't skip a beat or stumble, listing off all the facts of successes and figures and goals.

Quetesh demanded more. There was no time for a switch, and so Sam put all her effort into giving Jolinar the little details that the symbiote had not learned by heart. The minutes passed and turned into hours, and Quetesh sat unmoving and unflinching. Her long hand would remove a round grape from the bowl at her side, and bring it to her mouth without her eyes straying from their hold on Jolinar's.

Eventually, even Sam exhausted all that she knew about this world, and her mind was spinning with the effort. It had been nearly two hours since they entered, and they had no meal since early morning.

"And the roads?" Quetesh questioned after the slightest pause.

Sam would have blinked, astonished that she had noticed that at all. Jolinar answered without a stumble, "Not efficient yet."

Finally, Quetesh made a move, slipping from her chair with the metallic tangle of her gown. Sam and Jolinar sat at the table, hands resting at their sides, and Quetesh began to walk the few steps over to them. "So," she said, only just loud enough to hear, "you not only think yourself more devoted than Toc'no was, but you hold your intelligence higher than his."

After a short swallow, Jolinar turned her head up. "Failure is not an option, so success must be striven for."

"Not an answer," countered Quetesh in a low, smooth tone, looking down towards Jolinar.

Now she truly was towering over them, and Sam felt a chill of exactly how much power the Goa'uld held in just their very presence. The way they communicated how swiftly they could snap anyone's neck without word or even visual threat. It was just there, behind the glitter of their eyes. And Quetesh's were like slow burning magma, focusing all their piercing intellect on Sam and Jolinar.

Jolinar steeled herself from flinching as one of Quetesh's hands rose from her side. Her long finger stretched out, and gently grazed Jolinar's temple with the tip. Insecurity raged in Sam and Jolinar's mind, but she held her neutral face, still looking up into their acknowledged god's eyes. Quetesh let the finger drag down Jolinar's face, just flicking away as it reached her chin.

"My mark does not destroy your face," she said, indicating the tattoo with her finger still hovering just an inch from Jolinar's face. And then, before Jolinar had to blink, "It is a shame that you have only the sensibilities of a warrior," Quetesh said with an exhalation. The predator eyes calmed just a little.

_~Good god, was that...?~_

"If you are starved, you may ease your hunger before returning to your duties," Quetesh tossed over her shoulder as she returned to her throne some paces off. Lowering herself back in her throne, her gaze returned to Sam and Jolinar with less interrogation.

Jolinar hesitated, and Sam felt her as unsure of what what was the best course. To give in, submit and eat while their god watched, might destroy the strength they had tried to prove. And yet, to deny their god's pleasure might ruin the favor they might have built. But as Quetesh's eyes strayed and covered every inch of their body, even Jolinar felt the urge to escape it.

"My duties are pressing," she said, rising and bowing.

Quetesh did not nod back, but showed no sign of any thought or emotion as they slowly departed.

Jolinar did not turn her back until the door closed and left them in the inner court. The sun was just lowered in the sky, but it felt dark. Jolinar shivered in a short spasm, swallowing the bitter taste at the back of their throat.

_*I had hoped to forget all that.*_

Sam was just glad that this time Jolinar had no desire to carry the role beyond the parameters already set. As they returned to the settlement, they knew that it was not over. They would have to manage with Quetesh for some time more. But this was a twisted game, and they couldn't be sure that they controlled all their moves.


	42. Gathering

**Chapter 41 - Gathering**

Quetesh did not leave her temple either during the rest of the day, during the night, nor even the next morning. There were calls for various foods, but she did not stir. Sam and Jolinar both found themselves speculating on her intentions and goals on this planet. It wasn't just routine inspection—or that would be the strangest answer available.

Taking a gamble, Sam ordered the people back onto the road work. Quetesh had made comment of it, and as she wasn't here to see there was no worry of being too conspicuous with their worry. Technically, they should all be ready and waiting for the next command of their god. But Jolinar was going to match shrewd with shrewd when it came to Quetesh, and Sam had a gut feeling that it would turn out the best outcome.

It seemed that Jolinar, though still overwhelmed by all the information needed to be shared across their partial blending, was more calm than usual. Partly they had grown accustomed to this role, but Sam also felt the joy of being outside in the sun, even if it bore down on them in strength. And though Sam could spend days indoors and hardly blink, the exhilaration she had always felt in the outdoors blended with Jolinar's feeling of it being her natural place, and she couldn't even tell that their two views had ever been unblended. The mission was good if only for this.

Now that the day-to-day knowledge had been absorbed enough that they could give more of their focus, the road was coming together with much more ease. The mud was deep, but the silt washed down from the mountains had brought it to a more manageable level. It didn't take much to level the road down, press in the gravel, and smooth it out flat. Another quarter mile was laid, and Sam started to envision the paving stones needed and the gutters along the sides. Would they even be here that long, she asked herself, not expecting an answer.

The day passed, and as the road curved down towards the fields Sam looked out on their flooded state. No farming could be done, and so she had recruited those slaves for the road, but she would have to deal with it in a few days. The fields were level enough, and most of the water would be absorbed without draining off the precious silt that kept the fields fertile. But even so, this amount of flooding had destroyed some of the plants, and from all the records it wasn't rare. Sam was just waiting for the chance to map it out completely, put a grid of irrigation ditches just shallow enough to let the floods do their work.

Looking back to the road after her thoughts, Sam saw a Jaffa glance up to the temple. Following his gaze, she saw Quetesh standing on the balcony, a small figure from that far off. Sam saw her stand and look down for a minute, and then turn and go back inside. They didn't see her the rest of the day.

The houses in the settlement were fully repaired by day's end, and as Sam walked past towards her own quarters, all seemed well again. Jolinar had given her no doubt that while Quetesh herself had remained absent, her Jaffa's sharp eyes were on Coron's every move. But strangely, Sam didn't fear their report. Today had gone too well for that.

She almost had a moment to find it strange that Jolinar was always there in her mind, and yet Sam didn't note her thoughts. As if it was too natural to know what was in her mind, even though she didn't. Recently, it felt as if she should.

Morning brought a sudden end to the ambiguity, and the weather only aided the mood. Sam and Jolinar became uncomfortably roused from sleep by the ambient heat that was oven-like in its pressure. It was almost difficult to breathe in the weight of the air, and they emerged into the rising sun with no relief. Smothering and humid, Sam thought that it must forebode something. Jolinar seemed about to object, as Sam expected she would. However:

"Our lord is awaiting your presence." Sam spun around to see one of Quetesh's Jaffa speaking to her.

"Understood," she answered automatically, then bit the inside of her lip as the Jaffa left. _~Damn, did we forget something like that?~_

_*No, this is just another trick, get us off our mark by asserting all the control. Still, we are expected immediately.*_

Sam nodded, letting Jolinar take them swiftly up the hill to Quetesh's court again. The armor weighed them down, and a tiny rivulet of sweat ran from Sam's brow down behind her ear but she couldn't deal with it. The air emanating from the temple, however, was cool and light—at least relative to everywhere else. Jolinar took a deep breath before entering the inner court.

Quetesh was lounged in her magnificent throne, its size unable to exactly dwarf the tall woman with her even taller headdress wrapped in her dark hair. Up on the dais, this was the position of a vengeful god, not a manipulative one. Sam and Jolinar inwardly hesitated, not knowing what to expect. Quetesh's face was unreadable, her eyes dark beneath the glory surrounding her.

"Coron, you did not see me immediately upon this morning," she said, voice reverberating throughout the chamber.

_*She knows she did not call for us,* _Jolinar said to herself and to Sam, words flying through her mind faster than Sam could see until she let them out after a second's pause. "My lord, there is only one whose mind is infallible, and thus I cannot promise absolute perfection in my service."

Too excusing? Too groveling? Jolinar's misgivings aligned perfectly with Sam's for a few seconds, until Quetesh's lip twitched.

"Come forward, Coron, and kneel before your god," Quetesh ordered, her hand flicking out without leaving the arm rest.

Jolinar did not breathe out in relief, merely took the few steps forward to the bottom of the stairs that led to the dais, putting one knee down as quietly as possible in the heavy armor. Her head didn't stay bowed, but looked up to Quetesh's knees, bold but not blasphemous.

"Lord Ba'al knows little of this world," Quetesh continued, and the subject struck like a wild bolt of lightning from a crystal sky. "As he knows little of so many others, with his mind on those who hold undeserved power and might."

Jolinar barely blinked, and Sam and her remembered their first encounter with the goddess.

"Of the worlds that I have tried to wrest from his hands, he retained all in the first round, save one," Quetesh continued. "Unfortunately, the slaves are taking some time to gain their senses, but my success had its desired goal. I took on further worlds, and have shown Ba'al for the inferior being he is."

Jolinar nodded, still looking below Quetesh's face. _*She is clever, but Ba'al may not be as foolish as she thinks.*_

"In the end, he will open his eyes, even if I have to force realization upon him," said Quetesh after a pause. "And when that day comes, he will bear down upon this world with his force. You have made progress, but this place will not serve its purpose on that day unless fully finished. Look at me."

Jolinar looked up, and Quetesh looked back down, the same strange intensity in her face from last night, though it played differently in this formal chamber.

"Coron, I will not see failure in your future," she said, tone steely. "Finish my temple, and strip this world of resources. When the day of reckoning comes, roads must be looked back upon with everything but regret."

"It will be so," Jolinar acknowledged without thought, her mind far from obedience at the moment.

"Many more will be coming to this world soon," Quetesh finished with a lighter emphasis. "All will be ready for them?"

Jolinar nodded, and Sam knew they were both thinking of the Abydonians.

"Then you are dismissed."

With a bow, Jolinar removed herself quickly. _*I should have known that this would be dangerous...* _she thought.

ooooooo

"Ow, ow, ow!" Mckay whimpered, shaking the one hand he could.

Daniel didn't make a comment, just waited for him to get out of the driver's seat. Mckay's insistence that he could at least steer with his injured hand had been expectedly short-lived.

"Don't take the corners too fast," Mckay said, sitting gingerly in the passenger's seat, hand hugged close to his chest. "This thing is an antique, but it's not your kind of old."

"I do live in the same century you do, Rodney," reminded Daniel.

"Sure you do." Mckay followed his comment with a grimace as the car jerked into reverse.

With a little less than a week until their next mission, Mckay was still not fully recovered. Janet was on him about health, Brymon about therapy, but even the formidable pair together couldn't deny that he should be fine by himself. Daniel had been surprised when Mckay said he was willing to get off pain meds for a chance to escape the infirmary, but then again, Daniel thought that he probably liked the people on the base more than Mckay.

"This is so pathetic," Mckay said as Daniel pulled out of the base parking lot. Mckay had printed out directions to his apartment, not wanting to have to give constant feedback to Daniel.

"You don't live that far off, it's an easy trip," Daniel said, shrugging.

"Yeah, but there's a reason I don't carpool, and it's not just because I work at a top secret base," said Mckay. "You have no idea how unreliable even the seemingly most consistent people can be."

Daniel said nothing, taking the first set of corners at a much slower pace than usual and feeling the pull. This car did not ride well.

"How are you getting to your place after you drop me off?" asked Mckay after a second's pause.

"Walk," said Daniel. "It's only a couple miles to my place."

Mckay turned and looked at him with the face he normally showed to aliens. "How did you pretend to be sane enough to get this job?"

Daniel's mouth twitched into a smirk. "You haven't read the files, have you?"

"No, why?" Mckay asked, suddenly curious.

"Oh, I got this job precisely because I was the right kind of insane." Daniel pulled the car into Mckay's apartment lot, easing back so there would be no jerk as he parked. "Jack did too, actually."

"You could have mentioned that during the pitch, saved a lot of trouble," muttered Mckay as Daniel opened his door.

"Why, you wouldn't have joined?" Daniel asked, eyebrow rising as he accompanied Mckay up the one flight of stairs outside.

"Well—no," said Mckay, apparently caught a little off. "I mean, it would have made it a whole lot easier to understand...never mind."

Daniel grinned to himself. "Yeah, well, what would have been the fun in that?"

Mckay's apartment was nothing Daniel didn't expect, full of mindless clutter and stale food. The scientist collapsed onto his couch, which crunched in response, and curled his hand to his chest again.

"Need anything?" Daniel asked, glancing around with a barely hidden grimace. Mess was one thing, but food mess was another.

"Just the remote," said Mckay. "If I'm not going to be on those drugs, I need something else."

Daniel walked across the room to where the grey rectangle sat on the chair. There was a hiss as he picked it up. "Cat?" Daniel asked, handing the remote to Mckay.

"Oh, his water is self-cleaning and I have his meals set to be served automatically on a timer, so he's fine," said Mckay as the TV clicked on.

Daniel shook his head as he went for the door.

"Thanks, Jackson," Mckay called after him.

Daniel looked back and couldn't see the scientist's head over the sagging couch back, but that was probably planned. And it didn't feel unnatural. This was not Daniel's life, not Daniel's way of living even, but there was something familiar about it. He and Mckay hadn't known each other that long, but Daniel already felt like he had gravely misjudged the man on their first meeting. Mckay was odd, but he was a piece of the SG-1 family.

He almost said 'you're welcome' back, but decided against it. The thanks hadn't been for the favor, but for something Mckay wouldn't admit to anyone, except maybe in this oblique way that he knew only Daniel would understand. And after one and half years on SG-1, Daniel knew better than most how that process of communication worked.

ooooooo

Quetesh departed Dorieth with a minimum of pomp, leaving Sam and Jolinar with a bigger mess than if she had refused to approve of their succession.

_~How could you not know this?~ _Sam asked, as soon as she muddled out exactly what had caught Jolinar's attention.

_*Because it wasn't a known quantity before now,* _Jolinar answered, fidgeting as she took a tour round the settlement. _*Her plan, her grand plan—it started with Abydos. We caught the attention of Ba'al, which led her there, which gave her the success she needed to continue her plan. And now it is not just a plan, it is a scheme.*_

_~So what do we do, sabotage it? She obviously needs this planet for something.~_

_*No, no, that is not the issue. With our current contacts, it would be simple to undermine this whole rule. Or if not simple, than nothing that we have not done before.*_

_~Oh.~_

_*We may have caused this situation, and now are embroiled in it against all orders. If we leave it as it is, we may open up the ranks of the System Lords to a new threat, which may or may not be useful. If we do anything else, we make the same risk.*_

_~So we confess, and hope that the information we bring is enough.~_

_*Perhaps not,* _Jolinar answered slowly. Sam felt a slight detachment, and she started to worry. _*We can yet play it smoothly.*_

_~Jol, this doesn't sound good, whatever you're going to do.~_

_*It is no further than we have already gone. We tell the Council that we believe we have something that needs exploring, and return to report that it is a new danger. Then, volunteering to follow through with it is only natural.*_

_~It's lying.~ _And before Jolinar could answer, Sam followed up: _~More than usual.~_

_*The truth is not all that matters; why else would there be spies?*_

_~Don't try to cover it up like that. It's not the same issue, and you know it. These are people who I respect, who you should trust. We crossed the line for personal reasons, but there's no need to do it now.~_

Jolinar finished the round, and stood at the top of the paved road. _*And if they considered us too involved to continue on the mission? Would you just let it go to another operative?*_

Sam wavered, fighting with herself for the right answer, and seeing only a mish-mash of emotions and logic, morals and laws. _~What is your motivation, anyway? Why did you, and why are you, doing this?~_

A little to her surprise, Jolinar took a few moments before answering. _*That is the question. You have claimed to be qualified to make those kinds of determinations before, why don't you do so now?*_

_~Because I'm just not sure,~ _Sam answered. _~I don't even know my own thoughts, much less yours. The only thing I remember is that you felt guilty, but how does that fit into deception on this scale?~_

_*Maybe our emotions have been aligned for longer than you think; maybe ever since your heart broke for Sha're's people mine was following suit, clouding my mind. Maybe I cannot stand by while Quetesh ruins lives on my watch. Maybe that and knowing that I am directly responsible for whatever happens is just too much.*_

Sam heard, and understood. _~But the lying?~_

_*Anything may be sacrificed for the greater good, even truth.*_

_~Well, there we don't agree.~_

_*Says the one who whole-heartedly agreed to our strategy...*_

_~It was not my idea. And yes, even I break my own scruples sometime. Am I not allowed a little regret that we ever started down this path?~_

_*Allowed, certainly; take some of mine, will you not? I can scarcely see past my own regrets, piling on one another like grains of sand to create a dune.*_

Sam didn't even try to sort out the emotions as the stood for a minute, the sun beginning to fall towards the horizon behind them.

_~Hey, at least something worked,~_ Sam commented. _~The Jaffa appear to be functioning under their sub-commanders, and we've hardly had a complaint or question all day.~_

_*Whatever happens, we need to get back home,* _said Jolinar with a sigh.

Narim, her father, blending, everything. They had settled too far into this role, and Sam had almost forgotten all that still hung in the balance. _~Okay, so we need to get things ready to go back.~_

_*Samantha, please, let us merely play this out to its fullest. A confession would only confuse matters further, and lead to confrontations and distrust. And yes, I know, the distrust came from us first, but there is so much more at stake here.*_

_~And there always will be,~ _Sam protested mildly. _~I just—I can't believe we started down this slope and I didn't recognize how steep it was. But you're right, we need to ride it to the bottom.~_

And at least they were agreed on that.

ooooooo

Hammond walked through the SGC, hands by his sides, back only slightly slumped, watching as his people carried on with their days. They had no idea what was going on above them, and if Hammond had his way they never would. From Simmons to this, from an interrogation that only proved in vain because SG-1 saved the world, to a diplomatic mission gone wrong and an Air Force general lost with more classified information than a report could express.

New planet exploration was almost on hold for the time being, as stuffed shirts in Washington argued over whose fault it was that Jacob Carter had been lost. Even if "Jacob Carter" was just another word for "top secret information" to them, it was the former that struck Hammond the most deeply. It was his failure, his responsibility. And he didn't know what his penance should be: stay here and do his damnedest to mend what was broken, or retire before his obviously failing judgment endangered the world again.

Daniel nodded and smiled as he passed Hammond in the hall, oblivious to the fact that his very job might be hanging in the balance. His chance of recovering his wife, more importantly. If politics succeeded, the SGC might be doing nothing more than damage control for the rest of its existence.

Hammond hoped to God that it wouldn't come to that, but all he could do was wait and see. No, he could also make sure that no one else had to share the waiting. Jack might suspect, but he didn't know. That was Hammond's burden, and his alone.

ooooooo

With Quetesh gone, it was simple to provide an excuse that she had given them a specific task. Sam approached her subordinates, giving them the news that she would be absent for some time, and appointing each of them duties in her absence. Both she and Jolinar had no fear of disapproval; they had earned much respect before, but with Quetesh's stamp of approval it was now unconditional. There was no question in their eyes as Sam laid out the plans for the next week.

It felt wrong to be leaving this place, to be away and let it work on its own. Role or not, this world was Sam and Jolinar's responsibility, and Sam couldn't let it go. She was a leader.

Things fell back into their old places more and more as she made her more covert plans, however.

"Narim," said Sam, pulling out the communicator that had been lying abandoned for some days now. "What is your progress?"

He smiled through the link, looking relieved more than anything else. _"I feared that you would not return contact in time; the Curia decides the final piece today."_

"How did it go?" asked Sam, suddenly curious about their official mission's progress.

Narim sighed. _"In most areas I believe the Tok'ra received what they wished. Slight concessions were made about the reproduction of the tunnel crystals by synthetic means, but it was agreed that the technology should be masked to hide its origins."_

Sam nodded. "Sounds good. And the weaponry?"

"_There was no such issue on the table," _said Narim with a slightly confused frown.

"Sorry, I meant the defense systems," corrected Sam.

_*Which are weapons, if used in such a manner,* _amended Jolinar silently.

"_My government could not support deceiving the people by sending technicians covertly to help install the technology on the Tok'ra, and as your people did not wish to be exposed, in the end the compromise was that you receive the blueprints."_

"And that's all?" Sam asked.

"_No," _said Narim, perhaps just slightly amused even though he appeared worn. _"But the rest is all related to the smaller matters, and nothing went unexpectedly."_

"Thank you, Narim," Sam said, smiling. Her device beeped as the results of the negotiations were downloaded onto it.

"_It is not an occurrence I would wish for again, but there is no cause for regret left," _Narim conceded, his smile still warmly polite.

Feeling the touch of awkwardness, Sam nodded, and the connection ended. _~I do hope this isn't the last contact we have,~ _she said to herself. _~He agreed, but god, it feels like I used him.~_

_*And if we hadn't?*_

_~I know, but our strangely good timing doesn't make up for it.~_

_*I know; I understand. But now, we must go home.*_

Sam nodded to no one in particular as she opened up Narim's neatly typed report on the screen. The persona of Coron was fading fast, and she was starting to feel vulnerable again. It would be good to go home.

—

**Author's Notes: **This isn't necessary for understanding the story, but if you're curious about where the AU part of this Goa'uld storyline is, here are my thoughts: There isn't much canon on Quetesh and Ba'al, but from what we have in canon, Quetesh was at one time allied with Ba'al (personally and professionally) and then attacked him at the battle of Selenis and crippled his flagship and destroyed 10,000 of his Jaffa. The timeline is vague on when this occurred, and so I placed it somewhere around Season 4 for these reasons. We know that the Tok'ra defeated Quetesh and freed Vala around Season 5 in canon, which doesn't make sense unless she was a big threat (unlikely since her domain was not large in canon). Hence, I assumed that she had a grand plan for destroying Ba'al, something the Tok'ra couldn't allow to happen because Ba'al was an important piece of keeping the Goa'uld warring amongst themselves. In this story, Quetesh's grand plan is sped up through her discovery of Abydos (an AU point) which encourages her to sneak more worlds from under Ba'al's nose, hence why she's thinking about the end being near in late Season 2. The rest of her plan is a further plot in this book, though, and will be well explained when the time comes.


	43. Choice

**Chapter 42 - Choice**

Debriefing the Tok'ra Council had never been so anti-climactic. As Sam had almost forgotten their official meeting, she had also forgotten that they would not have to explain the multitude of things on Dorieth. It wasn't the relief that it should have been, and all the information in her mind begged to be granted escape, or at least shared among others. As it was, she reeled off diplomacy and political machinations as if they really mattered to her.

The last part was the only tricky one. As the meeting began to break up, Jolinar dropped the one tiny bomb they had. "We were approached by an anonymous source with a lead about a possible change in the Goa'uld hierarchy; may I request that our next mission be following it?"

Ren'al, who was presiding in Garshaw's current absence, raised her eyebrows considerably. "That is surprising. But yes, if you think it worth examining."

"I do," answered Jolinar simply. With a nod of her head, the meeting was over. _*See, not so difficult.*_

Sam didn't have a mind to protest. She just wanted to get to the infirmary. Recognizing this more than anyone else could, Jolinar spared no time for a meal and took her where she wanted to go.

She looked first for Larys or Dorin, wanting to have the knowledge to prepare her for whatever had transpired. But there was no immediate sign. Expectant of anything, Sam walked through the alcoves, looking from left to right until she found him. Jacob was lying on his side, head supported by a pillow, eyes closed in slumber. He wasn't in fetal position—which Sam had almost feared might be the case—but rather looked weary as the shadows beneath his eyes and slow breathing indicated. Sam let her step make noise, and his eyes slowly opened, snapping wide as he saw her.

"Dad," she said, "I didn't know how asleep you were."

"You're back," he said, rolling onto his back and sitting slowly up in the bed.

_~And you're not dead,~ _Sam thought. "Sorry it took so long," she said, sitting next to his bed. "You okay?"

"I'm not dead," he said, tipping his head slightly. "And I'm not with the Goa'uld."

Sam bit her lip, wondering if that meant the Tok'ra were leaving him alone. "Oh?"

"You weren't kidding about how fast you pick things up like this," Jacob said, a tint of amusement coloring his lined face. "Of course, I don't know if you had Selmak this early on, but that's enough to poke holes in anyone's doubt."

Sam felt relief. "Ah, well, I don't think I needed Selmak for that part." She eased herself on the seat, watching the relaxation in his movements. "So, you talked?"

"Eventually, yes," said Jacob, nodding. "After she threatened me with silence."

"Selmak?" Sam asked, confused.

Jacob smiled, a tired one but a smile nonetheless. "No kidding. I only went because you told me to, but I wasn't going to give her any help. She just stared at me for hours, with a terrible expression like she was going to enjoy breaking me down like this. When I finally gave up and asked if she really was a Goa'uld, she smirked, and I don't remember talking so much as being interrogated after that."

Sam nodded. "So, busy week?"

"If it's real, yeah," said Jacob, grimacing and putting a hand up to rub at his neck.

Sam dipped her head, looking at her own hands for a second. "Apart from that?" she asked, looking up.

"I was wondering when you were going to ask," Jacob said with a sigh, leaning back against the pillow. "Selmak asked me if I wanted to die, and we both agreed that was an idiotic question. But I was ready to die, back on Earth. It's just—not the same out here. I'm not prepared for it, and I don't want to do it like this."

"So...what?" Sam asked, heart starting to quicken its pace.

"So, I'm not sold on how blending is going to make my life better," Jacob said, with a slight distaste on his face as he looked her straight in the eyes. "But it'll give me one. I'll do it, and I'll try to make the best of it."

Sam swallowed, not able to speak for a moment. "Wow, dad, I..." Selmak and dad, together, saved, bring around all the worries, fears, hopes, dreams—Jolinar felt the flood, and stepped in.

"You have our sincere gratitude, Jacob," Jolinar said aloud, and he didn't visibly flinch. "Samantha and I are close to Selmak, and to have you make this choice has eased two of our greatest burdens. The Tok'ra will be honored by your decision."

"Thank you, I think," said Jacob, brow creasing just a little.

"It's great, dad, that's what she tried to say," Sam said, coming forward again with a wide grin on her face, eyes wet at the corners. "God, you have no idea how I worried, how we worried." She put out a hand to squeeze his. "Knowing Selmak, I don't think you'll regret it. In fact, I should probably be the one worried, with you two teamed up."

Jacob just looked at her for a second. "You talk about it like we're getting married or something."

Sam paused, caught off guard. "What? Well, maybe, I don't know really."

"No, I mean you can't even see the weirdness anymore," said Jacob. "It's like—it's like something natural to you, which I don't get. Is that what blending does? Do you forget things like doors?"

"Not quite," Sam said, answering the last point honestly. She held back for a second. "Dad, what do you think is going to happen when you share all your thoughts and feelings with someone? It's not like you're tied together at the hip, it's closer than that. It has to be, even if you didn't think it had to."

"And that doesn't scare you?" Jacob asked, looking out from under his brow. "It sure as hell scares me."

"I didn't really have time to be scared of that before I was in it almost all the way," Sam admitted. "I don't know if that was good or not, but it worked." She paused, frowned. "Are you sure? You've made up your mind?"

"Made it yesterday, actually," Jacob said, nodding. "Selmak agreed that we should wait until you returned."

"I'm glad you did," said Sam, smiling.

ooooooo

Daniel frowned as he read his memo for the week's schedule, breakfast bar in the other hand as he walked up to his lab rather than taking the elevator. "Hey, Jack," he called without looking up, and out of the corner of his eyes saw the grey head stoop slightly as the camo-clad figure caught itself and turned around.

"How do you do that?" Jack asked, hands slightly emphatic towards his paper.

"Weren't we going on a mission in a few days?" Daniel asked, furrowed brow pointedly ignoring Jack's question. "There's nothing on the schedule."

"No, we weren't," said Jack. "You imagined it."

"Maybe because we should be?" asked Daniel, still ignoring Jack's side comments. "It's been more than two weeks."

"The General schedules things, not me," said Jack, shrugging. "Dixon and I have been on a couple back up missions, and haven't you been some place?"

"Yes, but that's apart from the team," Daniel said. "It just seems—odd. Unless he thinks Mckay's essential, but wouldn't he have said that?"

"You're paranoid," Jack half whispered for effect.

Daniel rolled his eyes. "I'm not worried, just thinking out loud."

"Is that something new? I never noticed before."

Daniel frowned. Jack was distracting him again. "Why were you on Level 19?"

"Nothing in particular," Jack said lightly. "Bye Daniel."

As Jack continued down the hall away from Daniel, the archaeologist's frown deepened as he wondered. He had guessed Level 19 simply because Jack usually took the elevator if he was going more than two floors, but as Jack hadn't denied it, Daniel remembered why that was the first one to pop into his head. Sam's old lab lay dusty, as Mckay had inexplicably expressed no desire to see or take it. Of course, Sam's legacy had been conveyed to each new member, and none of them dared touch it. Daniel himself hadn't gone there since she left, but he'd walked past it and thought of her.

And yes, it was exactly Jack to not spare his knees and walk those extra four flights of stairs just so he'd have a chance to do the very same thing. Moving on was one thing; but no one expected them to forget, so they had to figure out for themselves just how and what and when to remember.

ooooooo

"You understand that Jacob is hesitant?" Jolinar asked Selmak, sitting by her bedside as Sam had done for Jacob. Saroosh looked like it had painful to wait even this long.

"Many hosts are," Selmak acknowledged. "Less often to his extent, given his unique background, but he understands and is willing to commit. I have judged him as one who will not regret it."

"And yes, of all of us, you are most qualified to know," Jolinar said. "Samantha is overjoyed; she wishes you both very well."

"Jolinar, are you here to speak to Saroosh?" Selmak asked, voice rasping in her throat a little.

"I do not wish to tax her strength," said Jolinar, worry once again on her face. Sam felt the pulls of selfishness, but knew that they had all prepared for this moment, Saroosh more than anyone. And in a way, Sam felt that she had said goodbye long before; maybe that was Jolinar's influence.

"Then I will see you again with new eyes," said Selmak, a little breathily.

Jolinar dipped her head one last time. She rose, and then stooped to brush her lips against Saroosh's forehead. "Farewell," she whispered.

Sam felt a flow of catharsis, and realized that it was exactly what she herself had wanted to do.

Jolinar turned, nodding to where Larys stood, and Dorin just beyond. As they walked past, Jolinar gave control back to Sam. Dorin rolled in Jacob's bed, pausing as Sam passed.

"See you on the other side," Sam whispered, squeezing his hand.

They didn't stay for the implantation. A proper blending would take hours before they regained consciousness, more than a day for true safety and comfort. There was always the chance that something could go wrong, and so neither Sam nor Jolinar wished to be in that atmosphere, to have that worry right in front of them the whole time.

_~I need to talk to you,~ _Sam said, as soon as they were headed for their own quarters to change.

_*It is not as if you need an appointment,* _Jolinar responded.

~_Before we go back, there's something we need to do. And that is exactly what my dad is doing.~_

_*Are you suggesting that we fully blend?* _Jolinar asked, pausing in her surprise.

_~Yes,~ _Sam said without hesitation. _~If for nothing else, because I am worn from the necessities we took on Dorieth. The barrier almost destroyed us in a single instant, and then tried to do it through frustration and exhaustion. I can't put you, or me, through that again.~_

Jolinar pursed her lips, walking again. _*I do not think you realize exactly what you are choosing.*_

_~I'm not going anywhere for a long time,~ _Sam said. _~And I need this. Hell, you've needed it from the start, and I didn't realize what that meant until this last mission. I think, after living with you like this for a few months, that I know what I'm getting myself into.~_

_*And you understand how close our personalities will become? How there is no privacy?*_

_~I wouldn't—become you, would I?~ _Sam asked, a moment of faltering.

_*No, but our influence upon each other would be massive. You would remember my lives before you, every dark and terrible thing that I did or was done to me. And Samantha, there are more than you can possibly imagine.*_

_~I know,~ _said Sam. _~It's not like I'm all eager to be digging around in there. Surely this isn't as big of a step as you're making it out to be?~_

_*Nothing is certain. But one thing is most likely; any possibility of separation without harming our minds is very slim.*_

Sam took a minute, as Jolinar entered their room and began slipping into a less restricting piece of clothing. _~As I said, it's not like there's another option now. I have to think of now, of the near future, not long-term possibilities.~_

_*Then we may speak to the Council and proceed,* _said Jolinar, and Sam felt her weight suddenly vanish, leaving only minor worries behind. And that was thanks enough.

_~Martouf and Lantash?~_

_*Have always wished for our harmony. We will speak to them, of course, but they will understand more than any other.*_

Sam had spoken, almost on impulse. Her mind had wandered to Jolinar's earlier request so many times on Dorieth, and now it seemed like she had agreed to this already. She had been logically certain that it was the right, the only, way to carry on their bigger mission. Now, as Jolinar's emotions found a new peace at just the thought of this step, she knew she had been right in much deeper ways.

ooooooo

The hours past, and worry ebbed and fell. The Council had scarcely an interest in Jolinar's state of blending, and Ren'al almost looked surprised that it had not already happened. Sam felt extreme satisfaction that no one questioned that she might one day leave with Jolinar's knowledge. Trust; it felt good to have it again.

Martouf was preparing to leave to bring supplies to another Tok'ra base, but he paused to hear Jolinar's account, and when she was finished, said only: "I am glad." The smile of relief on his face said much more.

But Sam had to stop, to make her way to the Tok'ra bathhouse. It was fast, too fast. It didn't matter that she had thought it all out, she just couldn't jump in like this. Jolinar assured her that no preparation would be needed, but Sam knew that—and wanted it anyway.

Sinking into the depths of warm, scented water, Sam let her head dip below the surface. Hair flowing slowly around her face, she let her breath out in long thin streams of bubbles. Jolinar had nothing to say, for what was probably the last time in a long time. _~I can't really believe in all of this. I used to be a nobody, just another military scientist working for the government. I didn't make my own choices, I followed orders. Who knew that all it would take was to be ripped from my family and friends to realize how much a life of my own making scares me.~_

She rose to the surface for a long slow breath, and Jolinar replied. _*But you didn't choose this.*_

_~Not the beginning; but that wasn't all that different, as much as I didn't admit it. I was lucky, going through life and being ordered to do what I wanted. I wouldn't have felt so free if I had had different desires.~_

_*I am not seeing how your current position offers you choices.*_

Sam paused before sinking below the surface again, this time with eyes open and looking up at the refracted light rippling on the surface. _~I could have chosen to turn off the shield at the last moment, let Daniel take us on Abydos. We weren't close enough for you to figure out until it was too late. I could have chosen to give up on the Abydonians, keep looking for a new host. I could have denied what the Council wanted us to do together. Luck has not been in our favor, but I have made choices. We have.~_

_*And it scares you.*_

_~It does. I can't afford to make a mistake, especially not now, but hesitating might be a mistake of its own. And no one's pushing me in any direction, so any mistake I make will be mine and mine alone.~_

_*Ah, so this blending is so that any blame will be 'ours'?*_

Sam pushed out her last air with some force, rising to take another breath before sinking down to the bottom of the pool. _~Don't even joke like that... I haven't figured out what I really want out of life, my long term goals. I thought I was going to be on SG-1 forever, but if any dream's gone, that one is. Deep down, I think my ambition thought that wasn't big enough anyways. So I'm not going to worry about it, not yet. I won't do anything drastic, I'll just deal with the situation now. And what I want now, is to lose the awkwardness, lose the tension, lose the extra stress that I inadvertently added to everything. Things are bad enough without that.~_

_*After talking it through, of course...*_

_~Yes, well, that's a habit I find it hard to shake.~_

_*I can deal with it.*_

_~Good. Good, I'm glad.~_

_*Does it still feel too fast?*_

_~It feels exhilarating. I can't know if that means I'm alive, or that I'm just about to burn out.~_

_*If it is worth anything, I think you are too strong for the latter.*_

Sam pushed herself off the smooth crystal pool bottom, left the comfortable closeness of the water and let the air cool her heat-flushed skin. Wrapping herself in the bathrobe hanging ready, she brushed her wet hair back from her face and took a deep breath of the coolly humid air. _~That was it.~_

Perhaps she was cleansed from her worries, or her past. Perhaps she was reborn from a pseudo-womb into independence. More than likely for Sam's rationale, it was just the natural stress-relieving scents and sensations of a bath.

She was going to blend with Jolinar. She was going to know first-hand what it was like to be a Tok'ra, and when it was over, her father would be waiting for her with all the same sensations. Not the traditional father-daughter experience, but almost appropriate for the situation.

ooooooo

They retired to their quarters, and Jolinar took one last deep breath. She lay back on the bed, resting her head on the pillow and her arms gently resting on her stomach. Her eyes closed, and it was all dark to Sam.

_*Relax now, and empty your mind if you can.*_

Sam's heart almost raced, but Jolinar kept it slow as usual. She was lost in the back of her mind, and felt only Jolinar. Slowly, surely, Jolinar seemed to encroach on her space. The invisible barrier became visible only just as it was broken, and Sam fought to stay in the open. She wanted this, she would be fine, it wouldn't hurt.

She couldn't see where the physical sensation of Jolinar's tendrils stretching forth stopped and became the psychological one of thoughts crossing over.

_Darkness, crouching underground, zat in hand, brushing a stray hair that was too long away, waiting for Malek._

It wasn't her hair. She didn't know Malek. Until now.

Sam felt Jolinar apologize, felt that she had gone too fast, made the transfer too wild. But Sam didn't forget what she saw.

Jolinar came closer, Jolinar opened up to her, Jolinar was becoming Sam's other personality. Sam couldn't hide her excitement, her fear, and her strange desire for this to happen. She had always been just out of reach; Sam needed to know, needed to feel, who she really was.

As Sam felt the memories and thoughts seep into her mind, she stretched out just for an instant, touching that great unknown.

_Elista, eyes rolled back in her head, lying where she could see her as if Elista was not she herself. She wasn't. Eyes glowed as the Jaffa cruelly grinned, reaching for her. Symbiote strength was a surprise to him as she rose from kneeling by Elista's side, striking out and ripping the torture stick from his hand. Striking his face with the blunt end, and then stabbing the end into his pouch, watching him writhe to death almost as mockery of Elista. Tears fell, Rosha sympathized and cringed all at once, and she barely made it to safety before collapsing._

Sam pulled back, almost hiding, trying to lose the memory. She wasn't supposed to know this. Jolinar had warned her. She had to feel all the losses, but the pictures could remain in darkness.

Jolinar's mind came closer and closer, filling the edges of Sam's mind and coming closer to her focus of consciousness. It wasn't enough to wait; the stabs of memory would come if she waited like this, all focused on one thought. Empty your mind, Jolinar thought, or Sam remembered her thinking, and did it make any difference?

Sam did one better. Taking her little corner of consciousness, she flung it like a wave towards Jolinar's slow blending advance. Let herself spread into a broader consciousness, soak up Jolinar all at once, get this over with once and for all.

Physical darkness, bright light, pain, loss, captivity, slavery, power, control, all in an instant and then gone. Pain, bitterness, fear, hope, love, pain again, hope, hope, friendship, love. It lingered, and vanished. Shame, determination, relief, hope, teamwork, trust, love, pain, loss, love, love, love, love. Confusion, frustration, love, hope, fear, love, friendship, determination, captivity, relief, communication. Catharsis.

Sam's mind was wrapped around Jolinar's, woven in and among her thoughts, and she felt hers fill the empty void left so long on the borders of her mind. She was working, trying to make this as easy as possible, getting lost in the pure joy of a state she only knew as natural now. She felt Sam's wave of permission granted, let her last guard over emotions vanish, and the quick summary of her life as a Tok'ra filled Sam. She loved Sam for knowing this, loved her for letting Jolinar in.

They lost time, Sam felt years almost as minutes, and lives as stages, and her mind swirled with Jolinar's. Jolinar had no more control, couldn't stop it anymore than Sam could stop her hunger. It was happening, the right way, the way that it was supposed to go. And the physical returned, and Sam felt her eyes ache and tears burn down her face, and they were Jolinar's and hers and all the same. It had been too long; the moment was too intense.

Blended. Two in one. A team, a pair, joined by mutual trust and faith. It was the only right thing in the universe.

Joy and relief from months of struggle flowed out, and Jolinar wept, and Sam wept for reasons she couldn't even label as clearly.

Tok'ra. This is what it means.


	44. Perception

**Chapter 43 - Perception**

Sam felt no memory as she woke from her sleep, with only the time piece on the tunnel wall displaying any sense of time. Eight hours. It was too early in the morning for anything to be happening, but they needed more sleep anyway.

Jolinar felt how the release of tears was wearying, and she felt Sam's easy acceptance. Jolinar didn't cry, not like this. Sam didn't really care. She felt exhausted the same way, nose sniffly until Jolinar quickly tweaked that. Sam could feel Jolinar do it as if she herself was, almost.

Do you need that suppressed, Jolinar wondered, and Sam's wondering response was negative, if confused. It was weird, but not quite disturbing. Sam's need to think through everything instead of accepting it was weird as well, or so Jolinar answered. There was still an edge to their minds where commonality failed, but that wasn't the unnatural feeling that Sam had.

_~Is something different?~ _she asked, knowing that she no longer had to explain the intent behind her words.

_*We waited too long, that is all. It feels like a new attachment, no?*_

_~But it will fade,~ _Sam understood.

With time and sleep. Sam needed no words, and the room disappeared into oblivion again. No dreams, despite their mutual fear that they might arrive.

Jolinar woke with a deep intake of breath, sending excitement all through their veins. Today would be a good day. Selmak, saved, dad/Jacob, saved, and the Dorieth mission on the verge of being sanctioned by the Council itself. Tuck Sha're and Daniel and Jack and Teal'c all far away where they didn't cloud the goodness of today.

The corridors were smaller today than yesterday, Sam noticed, and Jolinar didn't have to explain personal preferences mingling with perceptions. Jolinar was less comfortable in her clothing, just for a moment as they dressed, and in a moment of brief change decided against hair gel. It was unclear if it was a concession or a simple desire for change. Both could easily be one now, anyway.

Breakfast tasted stronger when Jolinar's thoughts about it stayed their course right where Sam could see them, forgetting the flavor only so much as was possible, while Sam thought about if it really might taste different, and what if taste was almost purely psychological. Jolinar was intrigued too, but didn't notice until Sam did, and Sam suddenly wondered if everyone had these curiosities but only scientists acted on them. It wasn't a test they could do now, though, and Jolinar knew that better than anyone.

They sat at their usual table, and looked across to where Martouf and Lantash would sometimes come. And Sam missed them, with their smiles and patience and quips, and the cutely tender physical displays of affection that were unconscious after so many decades. It was an easy remembrance, and fondness built from a shallow acquaintance met with fondness distilled from something much deeper and were in sync for the rest of the meal.

Jolinar thought of dad as Jacob, and Sam was amused, off-put, and pleased that a distinction was already clear for something so important. Jolinar had no parents, not of the human way of thinking of them, and the words meant only very little. Any concern now was for Jacob as a close friend of Jolinar's through osmosis. And for him as the new companion to beloved Selmak, self-proclaimed and self-proved oldest and wisest of the Tok'ra, although perhaps both were not always true at once.

By the time they reached the infirmary, it had been over fourteen hours since implantation. Sam saw her father lying peacefully on a bed, hands resting over his chest in a quiet, innocent fashion. Not like Selmak or Jacob at all. Saroosh had died peacefully, had been removed and reverently given a bodily farewell. Sam wouldn't forget, Jolinar couldn't, and Sam wondered if her grief could grow with the more she felt pieces of Jolinar's memories of days gone by.

They sat by Jacob, waiting until he might wake up. Sam might have been bored with an empty mind, but everything that was new or enhanced caught her attention, and she looked at her own mind with intrigue. Jolinar was searching with more intent, exploring a mystery that she had pondered for months. They danced around memories and feelings and processes, until Sam heard a change in the breathing rhythm.

"Dad?" she asked, and was astonished how control was so neatly transferred without hitch like this.

"Is that what our name shall always be?" asked Selmak, blinking through her father's eyes. And Sam could see it, see Selmak there, invisible and yet so plainly in that face. She could feel Selmak even though her eyes said that it was Jacob. Her eyes were learning quickly.

"Not unless you want it to be, Selmak," Sam answered, smiling.

Selmak sat up, stretching his arms. Jolinar made the gender switch so naturally that Sam took a few seconds to notice, and then realize she'd have to get used to it eventually. "Well, that went without an issue," he said. "Jacob is overwhelmed and does not know how to come forward yet." Selmak frowned, nose wrinkling. "Not true," said Jacob's voice a second later. "I was just being polite."

Sam grinned. "I can still call you Dad, right?"

"Whoa..." Jacob said, eyes widening. He shook out his hands. "No more arthritis—why didn't anyone say that would happen?"

_*Which is...* _Jolinar wondered, knowing that Sam knew, but just pointing out that none of them could have explained it, and not even the Tok'ra hosts might remember.

"Still unsure?" Sam wondered, looking closely at his face.

Of course, Jolinar thought, just as Jacob gave her the look. "Okay, I get it," Sam said with a laugh. And when was her last laugh, why was she doing it now? Sam hadn't even noticed.

Jacob's eyes narrowed as he looked at her. "You look..." he said.

"Different? Yeah, I know what you mean," said Sam.

Two souls in one body, that is Tok'ra, Jolinar thought. It was the simplest explanation—and the most true.

"One thing you can say for Selmak here, but sh—he doesn't feel like someone who's lived thousands of years," said Jacob, clenching and unclenching his fingers as if the painless sensation was the greatest thing in life.

"Really? Jolinar feels..." Old? Not really. Just—long-lived. And that didn't make any sense, but it was true. "But yeah, I'm starting to think symbiotes don't ever lose their passion for life."

Jolinar wondered if losing that was possible, trusted Sam when she said that it was, that Sam had seen it happen before.

"So," Jacob said, his face becoming more serious. "I'd like to speak to Jolinar."

Sam nodded, interested, closing her eyes to let the transfer happen. Jolinar was a hint apprehensive, but no more.

"Jacob," she said, nodding to him. "Have I earned your understanding?"

"That's the question, isn't it?" said Jacob slowly. "Selmak made sure that the first memories I had of you were the ones pertinent to your...situation...with my daughter. I've seen how you've behaved, how my Sam reacted."

"Then Selmak convinced you that your Sam is still here," commented Jolinar, not as surprised as Sam was.

"You've changed her," Jacob said. "And I think you know that. But we all change, and what's happened here is enough for two lifetimes, if I'm reading things correctly."

And missing a whole lot more, thought Sam. She couldn't deny that she was a different person now; not drastically so, maybe, but different. She thought about different things, had different needs, different goals. It was just part of the experience. And Jolinar knew it too, knew that she was behaving differently than if Rosha was still alive.

"But I can honestly say I believe that you told the truth," said Jacob finally, letting out a little of his breath. "You didn't mean for this to happen, and I'm glad you've made the best of it."

"Then I have earned your forgiveness?" Jolinar asked, honestly.

"If you do right by my Sam, yes," said Jacob firmly. "But I warn you, that'll be a hard call."

Jolinar's eyebrows rose and fell in a second. "Of course."

"God, Selmak's already focused on what happens next," Jacob commented, looking through Sam and Jolinar as if he was focused on what was going on in his own head. "He's very happy, smugly happy. And...he says that he's starting to get a handle on all those parental emotions he never understood before."

_~Oh no,~ _thought Sam.

Jolinar cocked her head, confused.

Jacob said nothing, just sighed. "Well, I think that's all I have a mind for at the moment. Selmak has some words." He dipped his head, coming up with the unmistakeable look of Selmak.

"What are these parental emotions that you and Jacob share?" Jolinar asked. "I do not understand."

"Child, please, you understand them already," said Selmak with a chuckle. "Or if not, your host certainly does."

_~I did always kind of notice that Selmak treated you like a child...well, now both of them have parental feelings for us separately that are now combined. I think we can expect smothering, if we can't quash it soon.~_

_*In the name of all the worlds that...indeed, quash it we must.* _Sam wasn't sure if she agreed more or was amused more by Jolinar's disgust.

"I am no child of yours, Selmak," Jolinar warned, one eyebrow raised.

"Of course," agreed Selmak, with no concession in his tone. "But now, tell me, what of your mission?"

Jolinar sighed. "Samantha knows more, and I do not wish to say it all again." Sam had a weird thought of growing up with Mark, and how he would push her in front of him to explain to their father why the lamp was smashed and they held grandpa's canes. As Jolinar ducked behind her consciousness now, Sam felt very strange and, despite the dead seriousness all around them, she and Selmak at least seemed to have found a bubble of peace and amusement. "It was nothing much," she admitted out loud. "We chose it because I knew the Tollan before, and was close to their ambassador."

"Ah, the Tollan, say no more," said Selmak, putting up his hand. "I agree with Jolinar on this point, as unusual as that may seem."

Sam nodded. "Are you okay?"

"Of course," said Selmak, with a blink. "Your father, as I predicted, is very amenable now that he knows better. I believe we shall do well together."

Sam sighed, knowing that it wasn't the answer she wanted, but knowing from Jolinar that Selmak would not speak of it. Just as closely as Jolinar guarded the memories of her past losses, Selmak would put them away to be dealt with at a much further date. It was Sam who needed to move on, for now.

"So, I suppose we should probably leave you to rest some more," Sam said after a moment, Jolinar giving her the idea.

Selmak nodded. "It is understood. Samantha?"

"Yes?" Sam asked, curious at the sudden change in Selmak's face.

"Your father spoke to Sha're while you were absent," Selmak said. "She is not well; I believe Jacob was of some good to her, but I may guess with some certainty that you would not be."

It was honest, but it hurt. Sam didn't try to hide how her eyes dropped and her chest deflated just slightly. She pushed it back up, straightening her back and knowing that she wasn't going to stop and give up now. And Jolinar, Jolinar didn't even understand, but Sha're was somehow precious to them both.

"Thanks for letting me know," she said, steady voice. Jolinar had a moment where she wondered if Sam had always been this way, this tied to what "should" be done. And Sam wondered right back, especially because Jolinar didn't disagree.

Leaving Selmak and her father reclined on their bed, eyes shut in rest and continued blending, Sam and Jolinar walked out of the infirmary. Today was a day of rest before their mission called again. And the mission, the mission. Sam couldn't see how she was truly dutiful if she could forget it like this, even with Jolinar offering back that these times of personal needs were not as often as she might think.

They walked down the corridors, in no particular direction as they waited for inspiration to strike. Two Tok'ra passed, and Sam started and turned her head.

_~Whoa...I know Goa'uld.~_

_*So you do,* _answered Jolinar with a mental smirk.

_~I guess you don't worry about an easy language for hosts to learn if they pick it up automatically.~ _Daniel would love this, the thought barely registering before repression acted automatically to change the subject. Memories of past experiences, of monuments and Jaffa talking to their gods, all altered with her new clarity towards their content. This was...amazing, and strange, and weird, and...amazing.

Jolinar was excited, and Sam wondered if her natural reaction should be fear, but in the face of all this, she just couldn't. If she had to describe it, it was as if her mind now existed separate from her body, with her and Jolinar taking turns in wearing it. It had started before, but already she was thinking of herself as a consciousness. _~Wow, this is fast,~ _she thought, a bit of fear at that thought at least.

_*But as a scientist, surely you know that the mind is more than the body.*_

_~That doesn't mean the body is worth nothing—you know that, though.~ _

Jolinar did, but she had lived as a consciousness for millennia, and Sam didn't want to seem as if she felt herself better than her. And then Jolinar seemed to think that she was better, which Sam didn't understand, because apart from the cleaner past—except, maybe that was enough for Jolinar. Sam could still roll her eyes at it, and enjoyed Jolinar's appreciation of the response.

"Samantha?"

Sam looked up from where they were walking, and saw Anise standing there. "Yes?" she answered, blinking.

"You look surprisingly removed from life," Anise commented. "Has there been trouble?"

Sam's lip quirked. Jolinar didn't know how to describe her answer, a little unnerved by Anise's look of interest in it. "Yes, and no. Jolinar and I were merely conversing."

"Then if you are not otherwise detained or unwilling, I have something to speak to you about," said Anise, clasping her hands loosely in front of her.

"Here?" Sam asked, surprised. Suspicion was already flowing from Jolinar, and Sam told her to quit it.

"Actually, if you would accompany to my lab," Anise said, gesturing with one hand.

"Of course," said Sam. Curiosity rose to the fore again, even given her experiences with this Tok'ra.

"You left the mission quickly, but Reyfa and I spent more time on the Goa'uld lab that we discovered," explained Anise as they walked with long steps. "It did not have anything of use to the Tok'ra, and so we were unfortunately forced to abandon it for more urgent missions, but we brought back the downloaded records for our historians. It would not have been priority, except for the first notice of the name of the Tau'ri."

"Ah," said Sam. "But you know where that is now, why should you care?"

 "Perhaps we would not have, except for a question of clarification," Anise said. They entered her lab, and Sam's eye immediately circled it, fascinated with the order and—handwritten notes? Interesting, and strange, if Jolinar's reaction was anything to judge by. "Samantha, what do you have in your histories that mentions Egeria?"

Sam drew a blank, only knowing from Jolinar that she was the Tok'ra queen, their foremother. "Nothing that I know, though it's not really my field."

"Hmm," said Anise. "This document mentions her extended stay on your planet, which would be before her execution by Ra, but we would have expected some of the stories written in Ra's honor to mention his most dangerous enemy, even if as a despicable traitor."

"Sorry, but that isn't ringing any bells," said Sam, and felt Jolinar's pleasure in finally understanding all this phrases, and wondering if they were worth using herself. "I didn't know you cared for such things.

"It is not my field either," said Anise. "However, our historian is very timid and did not wish to approach you."

Or rather, Jolinar, as Sam and Jolinar immediately recognized and saw in Anise's face. Jolinar didn't profess to care that she intimidated some, but Sam wondered just how true that was. "Was there anything else about Earth?" she asked.

"I do not know," said Anise, shaking her head a little. "I was most interested in the scientific records, but they have proved to contain only ancient documents that are of no use today."

"Are you sure? I'd think you'd want to look for things that the Goa'uld wouldn't remember how to defeat."

Anise gave a tight sigh. "No, Samantha. Do you not think that over the past thousand years I have considered every option?"

"No," answered Sam, but smiling. "There's a lot out there."

Anise looked her in the eye, held it for a moment, then seemed to look through Sam and she and Jolinar suspected Freya's influence. "There is," she said finally. "But though you were once a scientist, your ways of science are not our ways."

"I can see," said Sam. "Is that all?"

Anise nodded. "The search for records of Egeria has been long, and I am disappointed that your world, as Ra's center, does not have any. However, it is much more pleasant to know now that there is no point in the search for the Tauri. There is a chance that the addresses among the histories may have further information if there is ever time to explore them."

Sam took that as thanks, and Jolinar reluctantly followed. She bowed her head, and left the lab. _~I wonder if she has spoken to Sha're,~ _thought Sam. _~I can't imagine Sha're would let Anise anywhere near her, especially not now, but I wonder if she's tried.~_

_*I do not think so. Her worry was for the harcesis; now that Shifu is not a danger, the Tok'ra are safe and she is unconcerned.*_

_~Must be nice to have such simple goals.~_

_*Sometimes, yes.*_

ooooooo

Daniel got the note around lunchtime, just before Mckay dropped by his office.

"What's this?" the scientist asked. The two days at home had improved his look, and despite his complaints, he had been keeping up with Brymon and his therapy.

"I don't know, I just got it," Daniel said, frowning as he saw the title of the memo. Revised Schedule. Schedules were never revised to add something new, and this was no different.

"We're being put on stand-by?" Mckay asked, taking one of Daniel's seats despite the dust.

"This doesn't make sense..." Daniel said, lips pursed as he skimmed through the formal page. "Where's the explanation? Why would our missions be cancelled? Surely that throws off everyone else."

"I shouldn't even care, but come on, what's the point?" agreed Mckay. "This is idiotic, putting the foremost team on hold for, what, a month?"

"The only missions left are repeat ones," said Daniel as he got into the meat of things, mind jumping around looking for possibilities. "Look—the Land of Light, Cimmeria, reassessing Nasya and Abydos later on. You can't account for back-up missions and digs or finds, but this is sparser than anywhere near necessary."

"This is not a good sign," muttered Mckay, crumpling the paper and letting it drop into Daniel's wastebasket.

"What's new?" Daniel murmured.

"No, this is new," said Mckay. "There's something between the lines; it doesn't feel right."

"You work for a conspiracy; being a theorist doesn't suit you, Rodney," said Daniel dryly.

"Well, maybe you see things a little too straight for someone who's worked in a conspiracy for more than two years," retorted Rodney. "I'm serious, Jackson, this is not good."

Daniel's frown deepened. "What do you mean?"

Mckay just looked at him, eyes disappointed in Daniel. And in a moment, Daniel was disappointed with himself. They should be reasoning this out. "Okay, then, what reasons could they have to limit our missions, apart from the obvious."

"What obvious?" Mckay answered, despite his arm closely wrapped in a sling. "They couldn't have found missions where the possibility of science being useful was nil?"

"Possibly not," Daniel defended. "But anyway, there would have been an explanation. This is just military talk, follow orders and don't ask why. The problem with that is that they only do that when there's something wrong underneath."

"You think it has something to do with the whole place almost getting shut down?" Mckay asked, worry and thought mingled in his face.

Daniel's eyebrows lifted for a moment, then fell. "No, that was settled." They rose again. "But no, wait—"

"What's going on?" Dixon asked, showing up at the door. "Someone die?"

"Possibly the team," Mckay said darkly, turning his head.

"What?" Dixon asked, crossing his arms.

"We don't know anything," Daniel amended. "But this memo that just came down from Hammond? No new missions, and not even regular follow-up ones."

"Okay, yeah, that sucks," said Dixon, leaning against the doorframe.

"No reason for it, either," said Mckay. "Doesn't that sound a bit off?"

"Hmm." Dixon's brow narrowed, eyes deepening. "You think Hammond's trying to protect us from what's going on upstairs?"

"What is going on upstairs?" Daniel asked, confused.

"The Colonel didn't talk to you?" Dixon answered.

"No, what?" Mckay asked, impatient.

"Well, the whole thing with Carter and the Goa'uld...Hammond wasn't happy about it, but O'Neill thinks it's going to be a lot worse farther up. He said they were called back when Jolinar was in our custody, and really put up a fuss when she escaped. Now? Hammond didn't say anything, but O'Neill thinks he can guess that there's a lot of blame being thrown at us."

"Should have guessed," Daniel sighed. Suddenly it was all making sense, and he felt like an idiot civilian for not being able to figure it out.

"They're saying it's our fault," Mckay said, nodding, looking back to Daniel. "I thought they approved the mission."

"Well, you know, they can always say they were forced into the decision," Dixon said, shifting his position against the door. "That's how politics work, especially military politics."

Daniel rubbed his eyes beneath his glasses, sighing again. "There's a possibility that we'll get shut down. Or at least the equivalent—limited personnel, rolls of red tape on each mission."

"Well, we can't know that," Dixon said, a little scoffing. "And we can't go around expecting it either."

"No," agreed Daniel. "But what if it does happen? What if they fire us? I can't just get another job and leave the planet to any Goa'uld who comes along...I can't just live and not keep my promise to Sha're." His fingertip rested on the memo, tapping each letter of the ominous title.

"Come on, Jackson, what else would you do?" Mckay asked, and Daniel could see in his eyes that the Stargate wasn't personal for him. Not yet.

Daniel looked up to Dixon, frowning and leaning against the door. It was the opposite for him; he had too much at stake here. Even so... "We did it last time, using the Stargate illegally to save Earth," he admitted. "There's another gate...if it came down to it, I'd find a way, get off world—"

"And die," said Mckay. "Yeah, great plan, Jackson."

Daniel's head cocked to one side, but there was a slight grimace. He _had_ nearly died last time.

"This is not the time to be having this discussion," Dixon said, warningly.

Daniel glanced to Mckay. The scientist shrugged. "True," said Daniel. He laughed half-heartedly. "We really are getting paranoid, aren't we?"

"Understandable, maybe, but yeah," said Dixon, chuckling.

Mckay hmphed and rose to leave, Dixon a couple steps ahead. Daniel glanced once more at the memo, and then tossed it in his wastebasket.

—

**Author's Notes:** Just to clarify from last chapter, Sam has not agreed to give up Earth and join the Tok'ra completely. She has fully blended with Jolinar for the duration of the (admittedly long) mission they're about to undergo—and that will inhibit a later separation of the two, but not prohibit it.

Also, from this chapter; several readers brought up why the NID didn't have anything to say about Jolinar escaping in Chapter 3. Since the SGC side of this story is from Daniel's point of view, just because it isn't mentioned doesn't mean it didn't happened. It was necessary that Daniel stay in the dark until the problem was immediately relevant; the government was unhappy with what happened with Sam/Jolinar, but it wasn't until the SGC lost them again and Jacob also that they started to interfere.


	45. Grit

**Chapter 44 - Grit**

Waking up the next morning went smoothly for Sam and Jolinar, and after a brief moment of fear where Sam felt like she had lost herself, the second day of blending was comfortable for her. Jolinar seemed to be stretching cramped mental muscles, releasing the last bits of tension that had built over months of holding herself back. And Sam, Sam just floated along and tried to let go of her inhibitions.

Taking their seat in the mess hall, they brainstormed on Quetesh and what would come next. Sam found her mind filled with the Tok'ra plan on Goa'uld politics, and even then only the parts that were relevant to Quetesh and Ba'al. Sam countered with what she thought they could accomplish in this part of the mission, and Jolinar reminded her that the next point would be to present a full briefing to the Council.

_~How soon?~ _asked Sam.

_*As soon as we can; Quetesh's plan seems already in full steam.*_

_~Is there a reason that the Tok'ra did not have a spy among her already?~_

_*Limited resources. She was an underling of Ba'al, and did not seem to be seeking immediate advancement. And maybe she would have remained so, if not for the inexplicable bad fortune that we partook in that gave her ideas.*_

Jolinar's eyes glanced up for a second, and then Quetesh was gone from their thoughts. Martouf and Lantash were on their way over, still in Tok'ra mission gear and looking a little worn. One year, Jolinar thought, it has been one year. And Sam felt it with her.

Sam also felt how easy it was to tell who was in control, without needing to wait for words or facial expression, but just by looking in their eyes. The different light that shone there, the sense that felt like naquadah but had nothing to do with it. Lantash was hidden this morning, and Martouf in the open.

His wordless smile indicated that he saw the change immediately, and so Jolinar dismissed saying it outright. Sam was vindicated now, knowing for sure how this relationship relied on things other than words.

"Samantha and I will be leaving again today," Jolinar said, taking a bite of protein-fortified cereal mush. Her hand and Martouf's met without thought across the table, again, recalling to Sam's mind the memory of a first breakfast so long ago that Jolinar was surprised Sam had taken note. But the hands stayed.

"I should not be surprised," Martouf said, and Jolinar caught the hints of dark circles beneath his grey-blue eyes. "It was the first words on all lips as soon as I returned that Selmak was saved. Were you here at the time?"

Jolinar nodded. "Just in time, yes. And perhaps we would stay, if not for the urgency of this new lead that we received."

"What is this?" Martouf asked, brow creasing. "Has something happened?"

"Not yet, but Samantha and I were approached with information on a possible change in the Goa'uld hierarchy."

"With whom?" Martouf asked curiously, taking a long sip of hareshna.

"Quetesh," Jolinar said without lead-up or follow-through.

Martouf paused. "Hmm."

Jolinar raised her eyebrows slightly and then let them drop, as a light shrug. She was expressing all the meaninglessness she could. Martouf looked down at his food, and then back up to Jolinar. Their gazes held for a second, and then it was dropped.

"We can only hope it is not as misfortunate as it sounds," Martouf concluded.

A few sentences more related his mission, and while no danger had befallen it had been long and wearisome and neither Martouf nor Lantash wished to speak on it. No more words followed, and breakfast became the focus again. It did not last long, and a simple embrace served as farewell from the weary two, tender as always. And always meant more to Sam now.

Quetesh filtered to the fore of Sam and Jolinar's mind, and eagerness to get back to their world.

_~We can't forget the Abydonians,~ _Sam repeated to herself as strategies bounced from her to Jolinar and back again. _~The temple is only one thing.~_

_*Of course. The official mission being one with our own should make that simpler to remember.*_

_~In theory.~_

_*Which is why I prefer to leave aside theories and wait for the facts.* _She did not recant as Sam could not help but recall times where that had been troublesome, but neither did she hang immovably onto her way. Sam knew that there were some theories worth trying.

Jolinar was surprised as Sam braced herself before they walked through the gate, and then Sam realized that Jolinar knew what was coming next. Dorieth opened up before them, sunny and bright, and the activity did not change as they walked through. Sam saw Jolinar's observations, added the facts to her own, and relayed back all that her military experience could add. If Jolinar had said anything before about how Sam was useful on this mission, it was immediately made clear to Sam that she was doubly so now. They hadn't done anything yet, and already the picture was clearer.

With Sam's communication always at her fingertips, Jolinar put herself back into the role of Coron with determination and skill. All those days of frustration, she had been watching and learning, and now played Sam as Coron almost better than Sam herself. And Sam watched, not worrying about what words she should say, but only how they affected the Jaffa.

And the Jaffa did not blink at the reappearance of their commander. Sam and Jolinar made a quick tour, taking in the lowered flood levels in the fields and how little scaffolding was left on the temple's peak. There had been much work in the quarry, and per Sam's orders the road had been left untouched. Sam saw with pleasure that it had been used, and the basic paving was solid so far, unlike the varying muddy patches on the rest of the road.

By the time they circled back to the village, it was looking too good, and Ker'ish, the Jaffa Sam had appointed in charge of the temple slaves, approached them with a dark look.

"My lord, it is good that you have returned so quickly," he opened, bowing his head in a snappy motion. "Our last delivery of supplies was found lacking, and what is left is the foods for our god Quetesh. I did not dare touch those, but the slaves have been restless with limited rations."

Sam's guilt mingled with Jolinar's moment of not knowing what protocol would apply here, and she paused. "It would please Quetesh more to have slaves that do their work well," she said finally. "Give them the oldest of our god's stores, and impress upon them the favor and blessing that is bestowed."

Kar'ish nodded, no emotion on his face, and turned to carry it out.

_~Remember our plans before all this?~ _Sam reminded.

_*Still too soon,* _Jolinar said. _*Your greatest idea was this road, and that is still uncompleted.*_

Those slaves that had been at work with the paving itself had been divided into two different categories during Sam and Jolinar's absence. Some worked on transporting gravel from the quarry to places alongside the road where it would be required in the future. As for the others, Sam had ordered that they scout for appropriate stone for true paving. This day, she recalled most of them back to their duties as the strengthening of the road began again.

However, their commanding Jaffa brought back reports of finds, of some kind of shale or slate that could be adapted to their purpose. It was farther down the mountain range, but Jolinar did not hesitate to order that a small portion of the Jaffa remain to set up a mine. Sam gave her the information she needed to give detailed instructions on what and how it would work, and then they worked to rearrange their smaller workforce to best use.

After nearly two days under tunnels, Jolinar was more glad than Sam would have guessed to be back in the sun. And Sam was as well, feeling that she had some purpose here, that this was her mission.

Before the end of the day, they had almost forgotten their brief stint back into the realm of the Tok'ra homeworld. Jolinar felt like she belonged here, and Sam's love of work had somehow followed her into this line. She was ready to make this turn out right, even if it meant waiting and obsessing over the smallest details. Someday, it would all pay off.

ooooooo

Hammond hung up the phone with a long weary exhalation. He should be satisfied, bearing in mind the drama that had taken place, but found himself only able to be content. And possibly not even that.

He envied his people at times, doing their work with nearly ignorance to all the consequences that would follow. He would encourage it, had they been more worried, because when the world was in danger he didn't want them thinking about the political repercussions. But when Earth was without immediate threat, Hammond found himself continually dealing with deeds done without thorough thought. In any other occupation, they would be natural and unremarked on. In this one, they involved national security and occasionally the survival of the human race on Earth. Thankfully that latter was more rare.

So now, with the order from the Pentagon for increased security and caution, he should be feeling relieved. His load should be less as the teams had to follow stricter guidelines, something he was grateful for. It would also increase the limitations on civilians on the base, and that would hopefully ease the tension that existed between military and non even after all these years. But it meant that intuition would be quashed, and new ideas and missions would be forced into forms and procedures, meant to provide safety but as always dragging along stifling.

He did not relish spreading the news. There had been less murmuring about his memo yesterday than he had expected, but in hindsight he had worded it just vaguely enough. It wasn't as if most of the people on this base cared about, let alone understood, exactly how this base ran.

Soon, they would get an all too clear picture. And it was Hammond's fault. The first year, full of mistakes and accidents, could have been mended with time and another Earth-saving action. This year was not half over, and the political stakes were twice as high as they had been before. In theory, the base and this planet were fine; in political fact, there had been two of the greatest losses since Daniel Jackson and the rest of O'Neill's team had been left on Abydos so long ago, and that had been acceptable losses.

Looking back, Hammond saw much he could have done differently. Much he would now be forced to do. And if there was ever a time where lenience was needed, he wasn't sure how much he could give. The Pentagon was putting the law down on their secret Stargate Project. Hammond could only hope that it would succeed in their eyes. He didn't want to think about what the next step might be if another mistake was made.

ooooooo

The flood waters finally settled down to manageable level, and Sam ordered the slaves back to work on them. With the short food crisis, supplies all around were low and the fields needed to be tended. Jolinar sat back, fascinated as Sam pulled up long-buried memories of agriculture both modern and historical. It wasn't much, and Sam felt like she was going to forget something important. Jolinar could only provide a check for any basic errors, but the rest would have to be trial and error.

The road was falling into place, and the paving stones started coming in to be placed carefully, and then pack in the stickiest clay around the edges to dry in an approximated cement. Sam winged that one, guessing along with Jolinar that there probably was some kind of cement, but not daring show her ignorance of it. Once that routine was down, however, Sam personally supervised the progress on the fields.

It was swampy, muddy, and downright dangerous to anyone venturing out there. The first thing Sam did, however, was find the maps for the farming, and thankfully they were detailed enough to be of use. Leaving the cultivated areas alone, she started work on the pathways, having the slaves pile up the mud in the center of the path so that the water would run off to the sides. Every so often a slave would slip or get stuck, and end up covered in the brown sticky mud. Sam held back her concern, not letting them go to change because she couldn't bring up an excuse; it was nice to have Jolinar's sympathy for both sides, both slaves and Sam as Coron.

Slowly, steadily, the paths rose above the water and left the fields in square lakes. Sam, itching to get into the thick of it herself, instead ordered a survey team to scout where the fields sloped downwards and then dig channels wherever possible to sweep away as much water as possible. And meanwhile, behind them, the road curved downwards ever nearer. The fields were no less a mess at the end of the day, but at least it was an organized mess. And the crops were hardy.

Sam felt a moment's awkwardness as she went to bed with no weariness in her bones, even after viewing an almost grueling days' labor. Jolinar was there to ease it, reminding oh so unconsciously that this was all for a greater goal, a goal that would benefit them all. Sam didn't remember her pre-sleep thoughts the next morning.

"My lord Coron," came a crisp cry, following the sun immediately over the horizon. "News from the servants of our god!"

Sam met the Jaffa messenger at the door, nodding as he approached, bringing his staff weapon to his chest in salute. "Speak," Sam said, determined not to squint in the blurry brightness of morning.

"In light of the significance of this world to Quetesh," the Jaffa said, after taking a pause for breath after his apparent run from the gate, "the new slaves are to be transferred here immediately. You are to see that they are integrated properly, and that work continues at a faster schedule."

Sam gave a short nod. "Let the messenger of our lord Quetesh be put up for the night, and tomorrow we will carry out her bidding. You may return to your post."

_*You are catching on quickly,* _Jolinar commented.

_~This is what we've been waiting for, and—we don't have a plan, do we?~_

_*Our plan is to stop Quetesh once and for all.* _Jolinar stopped, wavered. _*We shouldn't do anything right now.*_

_~If it comes down to it, couldn't we make a distraction on this world and escape with them all?~_

_*Leaving those on other worlds and Quetesh's ship, and ruining our cover.*_

_~Damn, forgot that part.~_

Jolinar sighed. _*No, we cannot do anything yet. But once the Abydonians arrive, we have something solid to report to the Council. Quetesh is doing something.*_

Sam acknowledged that, and it was but a step to realize that they should not be too urgent on taking further action in this business. There was much else to do. If they could not complete their mission soon, they needed more than ever to have the strongest cover possible. And that meant working for Quetesh's goals.

oooooo

This day's briefing felt more hollow. Daniel had been both relieved and disappointed when Hammond's orders came down the pipe line. They weren't being disbanded; they weren't even losing funding, as the government was almost ready to offer more support with more watchdog guidelines in place. But there would be less new missions, more focus on diplomatic security, and a general focus on practicality and homeworld security above any scientific discoveries. Mckay was disgusted, and thankfully Hammond didn't seem adamant on being strict on that last point.

But still, everything was new and people were uncomfortable and on edge as they readjusted. Despite no mission for some time now, SG-1 was called in for Hammond to explain the latest situation. Connor and SG-11 had been on PXY-887 for a week, and were now overdue. If that wasn't bad enough, given the personnel and security problems recently, the gate had opened and an arrow had been shot through instead of SG-11.

Hammond looked deeply worried about what might be the first diplomatic error since the new policies were set into place. There weren't supposed to be inhabitants on the planet—now it looked like they had offended them.

SG-1, still minus Mckay, was being ordered to go through and patch things up.

"You're sending _us_, sir?" Jack had asked, eyebrows thoroughly raised.

"The arrow was of Native American design; of all the teams, yours is the only one with a member who might know something of that culture," Hammond had explained.

Daniel felt hesitant, as this wasn't his area of expertise. But it wasn't as if things would be the same on another planet in any case, so he might be able to pull it off.

Before the morning was out, Jack had them all in gear and prepped. The gate was dialed, the MALP contacted, and they were through into possibly hostile territory in a matter of minutes.

The camp was deserted. Teal'c and Dixon scouted the blasting site for the trinium, leaving Jack and Daniel to examine the eery quiet of a by-the-book Air Force campsite.

"Fire's dead, but the pot boiled dry," Jack said, pointing his weapon towards it.

"Computer still has power, though," said Daniel, curiously scanning the most solid clue. He woke the computer, reading the open document on screen. "Currently extracting an average of 47 pounds of trinium ore per day to increase our production fourfold as the engineers have requested... It's a request from Connor. He just stops in mid-sentence."

"Spooky," said Jack, gun gripped firmly in his hands. "No one leaves a camp like this, not voluntarily. And with no sign of struggle, we can assume they were lured away."

"By what?" Daniel asked, standing up and looking around.

Teal'c and Dixon walked up. "There was no substantial evidence at the blast site," said Teal'c.

"Looks like there were a couple detonators set up, but only one went off," added Dixon, agreeing.

"Ambush," said Jack, nodding.

"Not exactly, sir, or not by my mark, unless SG-11 managed to make their footprints disappear," said Dixon, giving Jack a straight look.

"There were no signs to show that they departed from the mine," confirmed Teal'c.

"Okay, that's just—" "Creepy." Daniel finished Jack's sentence, and they shared a look.

"We don't believe in Goa'uld magic, do we, Daniel?" Jack asked. "Just making sure."

"I can't say for sure what does or doesn't exist in this galaxy..." Daniel qualified, hesitantly.

Teal'c suddenly turned his head.

"What?" Jack asked.

"I believe that I heard something," Teal'c said, head cocked as he looked around.

"Great, that's always how it starts," muttered Jack.

"There!" pointed Teal'c, up towards the hill.

The other three looked. There was nothing.

"Let's move on, shall we?" said Jack, straightening his shoulders and beckoning them down the path.

Daniel frowned, looking around with suspicion. Strange things had happened before on missions, but this was starting to get frankly surreal.

"Planet of the horror movie, that's just our luck," said Dixon under his breath as he fell back on the group to walk by Daniel.

Daniel couldn't help but give a tight smile. Despite the restrictions on their missions, the government couldn't control what was out there in the field. They couldn't guess the wonders in the galaxy, and Daniel hoped they never tried. Because this, worrying and strange as it often could be, was what SG-1 was all about. And he loved it.

ooooooo

Jolinar spoke to Quetesh's messenger early the next morning, learning that he served under the master of the planet where slaves were rehabilitated in the Goa'uld fashion: forced into submission or death. Sam's heart started to burn again for Sha're's people, but she said nothing, and Jolinar pushed through with outward disinterest.

Before they stepped through the gate, Sam felt a moment of trepidation. _~What if they recognize us, call us on our actions?~_

_*How could they? We spoke only to Kasuf and Sha're?*_

_~But we walked through the village; they thought we were a Goa'uld.~_

_*I would be surprised if any of them have the strength left to make that connection,* _Jolinar answered gravely.

And Sam felt guilty for being relieved at that. Their cover had to stay, and Sam wasn't used to all this yet.

They only stayed on the planet's surface for a short time. Jolinar bit back the smell of acrid smoke and dampness, letting it put a fiercer look on her face. The lead Jaffa on this planet was scum, she immediately determined. Tall, thin-faced, eyes large and black beneath the glistening black tattoo on his forehead. He towered over her, but only gave off the feeling of physical presence. Once Jolinar confronted him about the Abydonians, all strength left his voice and Jolinar had the upper hand. Bullies were easily dealt with, at least when one who bore Quetesh's full approval and priority status.

A few minutes later, and the people started filing towards the gate. Jolinar had brought a few Jaffa to herd them through, and that was all that was needed. Backs bowed, weary-eyed, Sam was only grateful that she saw no injuries among them. They were subservient, but they had given up, not broken.

Not one showed any recognition, even when Jolinar shouted in Sam's voice that the pace should quicken. They looked just like any other group of slaves on Dorieth, but Sam and Jolinar alike knew that these people had been so much more not so long ago.

_~Couldn't we just turn around, dial the gate to Abydos, and send them through again?~_

_*No, we could not.*_

Sam hated the feeling of knowing exactly why, from a logical point of view, that was true.

Before she had really come to grips with it, they were back on Dorieth. The people had been hastily rearranging quarters during her departure in preparation for the influx of new people. Now they were here, and everything looked doubly crowded. Sam thought once again of how impractical this world was as a home base, and though Jolinar had not immediately noticed it, she quickly agreed on the point.

_*I believe before this is through, we will know all too well how every portion of Quetesh's rule fits together.*_

As Jolinar watched the Abydonians mingle with the rest, Sam started to wonder. This had been an ambitious mission from the start, prompted by guilt and not by logic. And yet, the more things went, the more the outcome became clear; either Quetesh would fall once and for all, or Sam and Jolinar would die trying. It wasn't spelled out anywhere, but Sam just felt it, looking at the situation. They had gone so deep, risked so much, spread so far—inadvertently, it was all or nothing.

Jolinar heard, and had nothing to object with. They might look back on this and think it a mistake, but for now, she was certain of success. Sam smiled to herself; if Jolinar wanted to trust luck now, after all the times it had screwed them, that was her prerogative. Jolinar couldn't help but retort that at least believing in luck was a rationale...Sam's optimism often had no cause.

_~I used to have optimism, didn't I?~_

_*You still do. We would have been lost already without it.*_

Posing as a Jaffa in the service of one of the more twisted Goa'ulds, lying to her only allies, with a personal life that was only possibly getting better...and she could still smile. Yes, comparatively, Sam still had her optimism; she hadn't given up yet.

It just worried her that a normal person might have. She didn't want to have a life like that—and yet, she still couldn't put a finger on what she did want. Thankfully, now was not the time. Now was the time to put the bigger plan into motion.


	46. Rendezvous

**Chapter 45 - Rendezvous**

Daniel woke up groggy—nothing new—but with the sun shining through a patterned grate on the wall. Hadn't he...hadn't they... He put a finger up to his neck, feeling for a mark that he remembered there. Yes, that part wasn't a dream. He had been darted.

Dixon, lying on the bench next to Daniel, woke with a jerk and a snort. "Gyah!"

Daniel shook his head slowly, trying to recall everything. They were on the planet, looking for SG-11. They had been weirded out. And then, they had been darted. It didn't bother him as much as it should have, he supposed. At least they hadn't been spirited away; darts were historical and realistic, and Daniel felt at ease with them.

"I'm not sure if I should congratulate the Devil for his taste in creating personal hells, or just assume that I'm not dead," came Jack's voice across the room.

Daniel looked over.

"Sorry, sir, you aren't retired yet," said Dixon, rubbing vigorously at the back of his neck. "Looks like we were knocked out and put in prison."

Daniel looked around, noticing the intricate designs and styling of the room they were in. "Um, this doesn't look like a typical prison." The door was open, despite the guard standing by. "These are definitely Salish designs, just like the totem we were looking at before they got us."

"Yeah, that was useful information right now," said Jack dryly. "Teal'c?"

"I have been watching their activity for some time," said the Jaffa, standing by one of the grates. "They do not appear to be interested in our presence. I have not seen anything proving that SG-11 are here, but it is a valid conclusion to come to."

"Odd," said Dixon. "Should we ask to speak to their leader?"

Jack shrugged. He rubbed at his eyes, looking as if he, like Daniel, was trying to shake off the drug.

Daniel looked up as three men came into the room, in the closest thing to traditional Salish garb that Daniel had seen. And they weren't carrying weapons.

"Hello," said Dixon with a speak-of-the-devil tone. "Colonel?"

"I am Tonane," said the man in front, in a thankfully very human voice. He was a solid figure, but his face gave Daniel a sense of comfort, not intimidation. There was almost an open smile on his face.

"Colonel Jack O'Neill," said Jack, standing up and looking just slightly surprised.

"Long name," said Tonane with a blink.

"Jack?" said Jack, an eyebrow slowly rising.

"Jack," agreed Tonane, with a nod.

"I'm Daniel Jackson," said Daniel, speaking up. "This is Dave Dixon and Teal'c."

"You are Jack's friends, Dan?" Tonane asked curiously.

"Daniel's fine," said Daniel, trying not to cringe in front of the diplomatic leader of these people. "But yes, we're explorers."

"The spirits say that there is a demon in Teal'c," said Tonane, turning his head to where Teal'c stood.

"It will cause you no harm. I give you my word." Teal'c bowed his head towards Tonane.

"I would be glad to accept your word, but how do I know what it is worth when we have only just met?" asked Tonane. There was a strange honesty in his words, and a to-the-point manner that didn't feel blunt.

Daniel looked to Jack, and just as he guessed, Tonane seemed to have impressed him. "None of us mean you any harm, Tonane," Jack said gravely.

"Then why did you bring weapons?" Tonane asked.

"Just in case we needed them; we thought our friends had been taken," said Jack, settling into a less tense stance in front of Tonane.

"They have, but you do not need weapons to find them," said Tonane. "They are with the spirits."

"They're dead?" asked Dixon, worried.

"No," said Tonane, with a smile, as if explaining to children. "They are with the spirits."

Jack paused, and Daniel smiled to himself. This was where he came in. "Which spirits, Tonane? May we speak to them?"

"Probably Xels, or maybe Takaya," said Tonane with a shrug. "If you wish, I can speak to them for you."

"Thank you, Tonane," said Daniel, as Jack wasn't sure how to interpret the situation.

"Then we aren't prisoners?" asked Dixon, arms loosely crossed over his chest.

"No, you're free to go," said Tonane simply.

"Can we have our weapons back...just in case?" Jack asked.

Tonane paused for a second, then shrugged. "Sure."

As Tonane and his companions walked out of the tent, SG-1 followed, sharing pointed looks with each other. Jack could deal with Tonane...but it would probably have to be Daniel who dealt with the spirits. And given the weirdness they'd already encountered on this planet, Daniel doubted that any of them were sure of what was happening. Not yet. Even Tonane's ease hadn't fully convinced him, not yet.

ooooooo

As the people of Dorieth worked to make their world perfect for Quetesh, Sam found herself drawn to the temple in particular. Jolinar's technological knowledge was limited, and with Sam's equally limited understanding of Goa'uld technology in particular, deciphering the true purpose of the massive building was a Herculean task.

All the pieces were created offworld and brought through the gate to be assembled on site. None of the workers had complete blueprints. Once a section was completed, the plans were destroyed and the section was never touched again. It had been many months since the foundation had been laid, and Sam could not have asked the slaves about it, even if they were the same ones after all the deaths and transfers. Instead, she had only her own and Jolinar's intuition.

Now with the Abydonians, Sam was able to put night shifts into place. Each section was given more specific responsibility, and the living quarters were entirely reshuffled, but by now these people were used to how Coron led them. It was frightening how easily they submitted to authority without any true power to back it. Not just the slaves; the Jaffa. Looking back, Jolinar and Sam both realized that their murder of Toc'no was not just out of the ordinary, it was almost unheard of. And no wonder that Quetesh had taken note.

_~I'm surprised she didn't suspect that we might turn on her.~_

_*I believe that in her vain mind, our reason did not sound like an excuse. And if she believes we command such loyalty for her alone...*_

Even with the almost unconditional support of the inhabitants of Dorieth, Sam held herself back from a true investigation of the situation. Not only was there no time; but Jolinar was sure that they needed to report to the Council tomorrow, and she didn't want to overburden the briefing with anything they discovered. Sam didn't think they'd find anything conclusive, but Jolinar wasn't going to push that luck.

So as the day faded, Sam limited herself to cursory examinations. During a quiet time, she descended to the deepest point accessible in the temple, looking around for anything interesting. There were large portions of the 'basement' entirely impenetrable, but the locked passageways suggested something. The walls, also, were neither stone nor wood nor any metal Sam could immediately place. She had no further time, and ascended again to check on proceedings.

Before the day was out, the new 24 hour schedules were set up and explained, and for the first time since Quetesh's departure, the planet looked fully functional. Jolinar caught on quickly, and added the little touches to the plan to make it feel more like business as usual for the Goa'uld. Sam's Earth-born ideas were universal on some levels, but Sam was fascinated to see the small flashes of memory as Jolinar adapted them here and there.

Jolinar had always had Jaffa under her command, and slaves under them, and her role had revolved around using their unique skills to her benefit. She knew just how close an unconditional leader could get, and just how far the boundaries could be pushed before the people could no longer recognize their customs and traditions. Sam felt her admiration for Sam's ability to come up with the plan, but Sam had to answer with respect for the way that Jolinar acted on the plans.

Now more than ever she felt how Jolinar intuited so much from everything around her, and yet it came to her active thoughts in logical, not emotional, order. Before they had blended, Sam hadn't understood just how natural it was for Jolinar to feel things instinctively, and yet relay some of them as if heart had nothing to do with it. And then again, just to break the pattern that Sam tried to see, she would be hopelessly lost in the depth of emotion, striking out or reaching out without knowing why.

As of now, however, the stream of information was steady and rational. They had less than a day before they would attempt to set the next part of the plan into motion. And it was not going to be easy.

ooooooo

Jack was thoroughly creeped even after they stepped through the gate and back into the SGC. Just as Daniel was starting to get a hang of this culture, SG-11 walked out of the mist at the command of the spirits Tonane thought he heard. And Daniel had nothing to say. Whether it was advanced technology, or some power beyond their previous understanding, Jack didn't seem to care. It was frightening.

The elders of the village were less so, despite their firm denial of the request to mine trinium. Jack, still a little shaken by what else had happened, didn't protest. It wasn't anything to him, in the end. Daniel, though, was curious as to what Hammond would think of it all.

SG-1 attended their briefing late, heard SG-11's full story, and then waited for Hammond's final judgment and further orders.

The general frowned at the table, hands resting in front of him as he appeared lost in thought for the moment. "Gentlemen," he finally said. "I'm not too proud to admit that there is a serious problem with this case."

Daniel nodded, wondering which one he was referring to.

"As you know," Hammond continued, looking at Mckay and SG-11's science officer Lt. Thaid, "it is of grave importance to the NID that we obtain this trinium. However, they are hampered by their very recent policies regarding offworld cultures. Even they can't break their own rules so quickly after they've been put into place."

"Why would any rule be broken?" Daniel asked, frowning.

"I believe that they would have supported mining the trinium after the Salish people moved on from their current location," said Hammond gravely.

Captain Connor and Lt. Thaid glanced to each other, brows furrowing. Dixon adjusted his seat a little, a little uncomfortable, and Jack didn't look up from his steepled fingers.

"Isn't that, I don't know, stealing?" Mckay asked. He'd been surprisingly silent, almost like a normal person would who didn't understand the situation under discussion.

"You know government types," said Dixon with resignation. "If they didn't know, it wouldn't hurt them, that'd be their argument."

"I don't speculate on such matters," said Hammond pointedly. "The fact is, at this moment, we are to go along with whatever the Salish are willing to give us. But we are not to promise any aid, only payment for the trinium. The NID want trinium, but they do not want another entangling alliance."

"Then I assume we're no longer needed?" Jack asked, looking up.

"Correct," said Hammond, nodding. "It seems as if this Tonane understood your explanation. SG-11 can resume from here."

"Sir, I'd be interested in joining SG-11 for their return mission," said Daniel, half raising his hand.

Connor looked down to him, an eyebrow raised.

"Is there a problem, Dr. Jackson?" Hammond asked.

"I have a feeling that there was more than met the eye there," said Daniel. "And I'd like to know what it is. Maybe Thaid can help me if there's a technology side, but I'd at least like to learn more of Tonane's people's history."

"Unless that's a problem with Captain Connor," Hammond said, looking to SG-11's leader.

"Not at all, sir," Connor said, after Thaid gave him a brief nod.

"Then you are cleared to go with them. You will leave tomorrow morning at 0900." Hammond closed the file, and rose to signify the end of the briefing.

Thaid, an African-American just younger than Daniel, approached him as they left the table. "What exactly are you going to do, Dr. Jackson?" he asked curiously.

"Well, despite the NID's demand for practicality, there's a lot we can learn from understanding these alien cultures. Aren't you at all curious about how you just appeared, but couldn't remember what happened?" Daniel wasn't too surprised, though. He'd had plenty of experience with automatic repression of some of the odd things that happened around here.

Thaid shrugged slightly. "Maybe we were just drugged. Maybe it's some kind of technology left behind. Why do we need to meddle with it?"

"Oh, I don't intend to meddle with it," answered Daniel. "I just want to know what it is, if it is anything. It's a new culture, and might explain some of the history of this galaxy; I don't go into the field seeing each society as a possible mine of devices."

Thaid nodded, not saying anything else, and turned to leave down the hall. Daniel wondered if he was getting better at explaining himself to scientists, or if they had just learned to drop issues when it came to him.

ooooooo

When Jolinar awoke the next morning, work had not only started, it had never stopped. Sam's plan had worked so far, and was especially convenient because of the rest needs of the Jaffa, where their ability to kel'no'reem at any time made this schedule less off-putting to them than to diurnal humans. And at the same time, Jolinar and Sam realized the lesser success of their plan. With no time where work was not being done, shifts flowed from one to the next without pause for not knowing what they would do next. Sam set out the longterm goals, and each shift merely continued the work where the previous shift had stopped, continuing on towards a constant goal.

So it was that Jolinar felt entirely comfortable in leaving yet again. Excuse did not matter, only whether everything would be productive. That being the case, only a few hours later, they took their leave once again of Dorieth. Coron had yet another mission for the great god Quetesh.

The Tok'ra Council was ready for them almost as soon as they came into the complex, after sending a message from the gate that their lead had been most useful. They had been gone four days, but it felt both longer and shorter to Sam, even though Jolinar had no such distorted view of their time.

"Before this briefing begins, might we know what lead you followed on this mission?" Ren'al opened with, as they all took their place in the room that served as a Council chamber today.

Sam was glad that Jolinar had an answer ready. "As you will understand when we explain our findings, it seems apparent now that one of the Tollan knew me from before." And Sam felt the emphasis on the final word just as much as the Council, who looked to each other and then nodded.

"Then let us hear what we need to understand the beginning of this situation," said Garshaw, once again at the center of this group.

Jolinar launched straight in, no hesitation or reservation that might alert them to the deft handling of the truth. She had no issue with lying outright, bold faced, if need be, but need right now was to be as open as possible. The hidden truth that she and Sam had been on this mission, and another one that had been forbidden, for almost a month was carefully skipped over. The gravity of the situation, and the details that Jolinar could provide, held the Counci's attention much more firmly.

"This is beyond what we expected," said Thoran. "I cannot believe that we let this potential for disaster go by unnoticed."

"It seems that luck has been kind to us," Garshaw agreed, nodding. "In a strange manner, but kind nonetheless."

"It further blessed our mission," Jolinar continued. "In a matter of days, I believe that I had a fair picture of the situation."

Garshaw nodded, and Jolinar laid out the exact evidence she possessed. This time, though, she claimed to have eavesdropped on these conversations. The more they went over the facts, saying them aloud to the Council, the more Sam and Jolinar realized just how clear it was. Quetesh was planning to overthrow Ba'al. She had made strikes already, and was using Dorieth as the staging-ground for something drastic.

"Is this even possible, given her resources?" Thoran asked. "We have left Quetesh in peace for this long, after your last reports claimed that she could not begin to rise to power again for another century. And there have been no hints otherwise since then."

Sam was surprised, as Jolinar immediately remembered of what Thoran spoke. She didn't share the whole picture, but Sam saw Quetesh, in another host, as Jolinar saw her before the mission ended. And Jolinar winced to remember what had happened, no matter how useful the report had been; Sam didn't want to look further, and yet, she did.

"I am certain that that has been her strategy," said Jolinar, as firm as ever. "From the reports, she has been slipping worlds into her control for some time, looking for ones that Ba'al does not defend. But to keep them safe from him, she must keep her actions secret from all, no matter how bold her plan."

"You have not answered the question, though," commented Ren'al.

Jolinar paused for a breath, momentarily irritated with herself for straying. Sam sent an apologetic feeling, thinking that it was probably her influence affecting Jolinar here. "Yes, I do believe her resources adequate. Aside from the new worlds that she has obtained, if we take her at her word, her plan revolves around something other than brute force. That was never her way, as you know. And from what I saw and heard on Dorieth, there is a further strategy that is not widely known, if at all. It is this that we must fear, not outward signs of her strength."

"That is understood," said Garshaw with a short nod. "What are the signs that you noted that may indicate to this plan?"

Jolinar hadn't fully prepared her answer to this, but it was not difficult to come up with it on the spot, especially with Sam's ready input. "She has been mustering troops and slaves from worlds stolen out from under Ba'al's nose, and has been using them primarily to enhance a structure on Dorieth. Outwardly it looks like a temple, but her attitude towards it contains too much urgency, and so we suspect that it is important to her plan. Given that it is Dorieth where she expects the final showdown to take place, I believe that this building is of extreme importance to her plan. Which is why she would not let anyone know of its true purpose."

"But to attack Ba'al, she cannot use a defensive device, as this structure must certainly be," spoke up Delek. "What else does her plan entail?"

"I have no information regarding that," said Jolinar. "But if she has not sent more reinforcements to the increasing number of slaves on Dorieth, then they must be of use somewhere. It is likely that she has been able to hide armies or ships somewhere; at least, we cannot discount the possibility."

"The latter point, yes," said Thoran, looking to Garshaw. "That is your final word on this supposition?"

"That is all I know of Quetesh's plan," Jolinar confirmed, nodding once.

The Council turned to each other, not quite ignoring Jolinar but also paying her no more than cursory attention.

"We have spent too much time on what the plan might be," opened Ren'al. "That Quetesh has a plan in existence that might cripple Ba'al is of greater importance, and should be given full consideration."

"Agreed," said Thoran. "We have not gone this far only to let a slip of our intelligence lead to the collapse of the entire Goa'uld structure, as may be likely."

"Do not forget the last time we dealt with Quetesh," said Delek, glancing briefly to Jolinar. "It was a hard won success; we must carefully consider this situation, for the safety of the Tok'ra as well as our own plan."

"Then we do not disagree on the importance of this information," said Garshaw once the others had said their pieces. "I shall send word to all members of this Council: Per'sus, Malek, Selmak, Sina, Thoth, Freri. All should be present, if this changes our very goals in this galaxy."

Jolinar felt relief, and it spread through Sam who had had no expectations.

_*I feared they would not approach it with such severity. I am pleased to be wrong.*_

Garshaw turned back to Sam and Jolinar. "Jolinar, Samantha," she said, nodding twice. "It seems that luck served you as well as your past this time, and as the one who knows the most of the situation, your information will be required again. There will be a full assembly tomorrow, and you must attend. We thank you for your services to the Tok'ra, in this case as in the past. Please, take your rest soon, and return prepared tomorrow."

Sam felt Jolinar's sense of pride at the gratitude, even as it only barely surfaced through the gravity and worry of her emotions. "As you wish," Jolinar said, bowing before rising to depart.

_~I did not realize that Selmak was on the Council,~ _Sam said, remembering now that she hadn't seen her father since right after his blending. _~This should be interesting for them both, right? An important mission right after blending.~_

_*It is the same for you,* _Jolinar pointed out.

Sam paused. Jolinar wasn't all wrong. Sam was just strangely at ease with the sense of deepest connection between her and Jolinar. It hadn't been there always, but looking back Sam wondered if she half expected it to be. And maybe her relief every time that it wasn't there had been mingled with a lot more surprise than she had originally thought. How else could she have grown so used to feeling at one with her symbiote in a matter of days?

Jolinar didn't hide that her own experiences with new hosts said that the level of intimacy always bred trust and comfort quickly. Sam's months-long resistance, though started from an anomaly, had truly been one-of-a-kind. Then again, given how things had turned out, perhaps it had not been as strange as Jolinar had seen it previously. And Jolinar's pleasure at this conclusion matched Sam's, or influenced it perhaps, as neither of them liked being strange. Independent, yes, but not strange.

As they left the Council chamber to refresh themselves and check in with loved ones, Jolinar's mind wound down as she ran over the list of names that Garshaw had mentioned. Sam saw their faces flick by in Jolinar's mind, none as old as she expected from thousands-year-old symbiotes, but one in particular striking her as looking no older than Sam herself.

_*Malek, leader of the Risa base,* _Jolinar said, bringing up her last memory of him. _*But do not forget, that I am a thousand-year-old symbiote and do not look it. Malek is older than I, and one of my closest allies—friends—among my people.*_

Sam was instantly curious, and Jolinar's memory of Malek was too brief and nondescript to be of any use. But it reminded her of how things had improved, that Jolinar was beginning to think of people beyond the core that she needed to survive. It wouldn't be a long reunion, and there was much beyond personal matters that would need attention, but Sam was looking forward to seeing Jolinar in the center of Tok'ra matters. Closer to these people that she claimed as her own, the only family she really had.

And through Sam's thoughts, Jolinar quietly agreed. Through all the trouble, she could reluctantly admit that she had been missing this part of life. More drastic than typical, but the usual nevertheless. This, more than anything, was the outward expression of who the Tok'ra were. Jolinar was eager to take part in it, eager to let Sam experience it, and Sam's curiosity rose to the challenge.

In the end, though, they passed by the infirmary to Selmak's chambers, and realized that they no longer had need to visit it. It was a bittersweet realization as they knew that they should have a reason still. But Sha're was somewhere else on this base, and they could do no more than hope that she and Shifu were well. All the intrigue that the Tok'ra could offer did not erase the personal conflict that still waited beneath it, brewing until an undetermined time.

—

**Author's Notes: **Thank you to everyone who has left reviews! I truly appreciate that you took the time to comment. Normally I would reply to each review personally, but I'm afraid I haven't had much availability recently.

And unfortunately, that will be even more limited over the next couple weeks. Usually I get the new chapters posted every 5 days, but the next 2 or 3 will be on a weekly schedule due to posting issues. We should be back to the 5 day schedule after that, though.


	47. Negotiation

**Chapter 46 - Negotiation**

Daniel took a deep breath of the fresh air on PXY-887, coming through the gate just behind SG-11. It would be a fair walk to the village, but it was morning and he had slept well the night before.

"Dr. Jackson, I hope you're not urgent about seeing Tonane again," said Connor, turning around as his weapon rested loosely in his grasp.

Daniel blinked. "No, not necessarily. Why?"

"I know the general just wants us to overlook the capture, but surely you understand that we'd like to take a little closer look at that forest where we just showed up," said Connor. His face didn't look out of the ordinary, just serious and a little curious. "Briggs and Satchel will take the rear, and if you'd like to accompany Thaid, maybe we can figure this out before we have to get to business."

Daniel answered with a nod. Not exactly what he'd been expecting, but a plan he didn't have to think too much on to support.

The marched out, the sound of dry grass and the shifting of canvas BDUs the only sounds for a while. Like before, there were no animals around the gate, but other than that, it seemed as normal as they remembered. They walked past the blasting site to circle around the village, and Daniel was surprised to see how well Connor remembered the direction.

Thaid apparently had no interest in checking the blasting site where they had vanished, but then again, SG-1 had already looked around and found nothing. Daniel supposed that in the end it wasn't as mysterious. The brush grew thicker, but only a few wildlife sounds accompanied the change, even once they reached the edge of the forest itself.

Daniel had no weapon ready, but he did find it noteworthy that neither did SG-11. They weren't relaxed, certainly, but he didn't see the usual tenseness that military men often had even when they weren't dealing with apparent magical technology. He had to assume that they were growing much more used to the ways of the galaxy than SG-1, for instance. Then again, SG-1's first reaction to anything strange was to assume technology, so was the superstition truly any less? So far they'd been proven right, but there was always a chance of error, and Daniel thought the chance much less remote than most of his companions did.

The forest of Xels and Takaya smelled warm and pungent, nothing out of the ordinary in it. SG-11 and Daniel quietly wound their way through it, keeping eyes open for anything that would explain how they had ended up here. Daniel paid close attention to the trees, not just because of the last real SG-1 mission, but because it seemed the only thing that might hide technology. He remembered Cimmeria and the entrance to the Hall of Thor's Might. There were no pillars of stone, or even large rocks, but the trees were large at some points.

Daniel didn't know where exactly they were in relation to where they had come to find SG-11, but for the moment it didn't matter. He looked at the trees, wondering for a moment, and stopped to pull a book from his pack. They looked normal from the outside, but there was an odd kind of scent in the air that he couldn't place. Janet's antihistamine potion had been working for some time, and given the usual forests they discovered, he'd grown used to certain smells. Just for thoroughness, he wanted to look this one up.

He flipped through the book, frowning as he looked for the picture that matched the grey-orange lichen on the bark. None of the rest of the team seemed to care or comment, as he heard nothing, but they had been pretty quiet during the whole trek anyway.

"Lieutenant," he called out for Thaid, wondering what the scientist's specialty was and if lichen might have something to do with it. There wasn't an answer, and Daniel heard some slight noises—what sounded like the flap of wings, and the soft fall of the feet of some small creature. "Hey," he called again, turning his head.

There was nothing there. In all meanings, there was nothing. Neither the animals he might have heard, nor SG-11. The forest around him was empty, as if he had imagined that SG-11 had ever been there. Daniel felt his hand twitch slightly towards his sidearm, and his brow furrowed. This was worryingly like deja vu.

ooooooo

_~I'm not sure I understand,~ _said Sam as Jolinar prepared them for the great Council meeting. _~Garshaw could have formed an alliance on her own, but this little issue requires unanimous presence?~_

_*An alliance does not threaten our mission, and therefore Garshaw may use her authority without check. However current things go down, a shift in the entire Goa'uld structure is probable, and that is of grave importance to every leader among us.*_

Sam was finding that her blending with Jolinar was not as flawless as it seemed like it should be. Just as she could not access her own memories to determine why she reacted in certain ways, being in tune with Jolinar's thoughts and emotions did not explain much at all about the Tok'ra world that was still somewhat new to Sam. She had been surprised when they heard the news that the Council had grown a new crystal chamber for the purpose of this briefing. She was for a moment put off when they descended to breakfast and found little buzz, even with Tok'ra leaders arriving.

Selmak and Jacob came down to the mess hall that morning, taking a seat near Sam and Jolinar but not speaking as they did so. It seemed to be the first time since blending, and some of the other Tok'ra came up to quietly pay their respects. Sam wondered if they recognized the look on Selmak's face that clearly spoke of weariness with the reverence given to him, and Jolinar wondered if Jacob's personality would be at all useful in helping Selmak dissuade it.

Before any of them spoke, Martouf and Lantash joined them, taking the seat opposite Sam and Jolinar. As Jolinar quietly glowed with her usual gladness at their presence, Sam suddenly wondered what her father now knew about all of them. Jolinar brushed it off, reminding her of Selmak, one who had known Jolinar ever since she first came to the Tok'ra. It didn't quite work, and so she tried to ease Sam's awkwardness by changing the subject, but Sam was reminded of just how touchy this whole situation was.

It was Martouf and Lantash who broke the silence and the awkwardness in Sam's mind alike. "It is good to see you here, Selmak," Martouf said.

"It is not good to be here, not for this," said Selmak. "Jolinar once attested to being cursed with bad timing...I do not hesitate to call her correct in this case."

Jolinar hmmed to herself, unfortunately in agreement. And yet, for their side mission it might have been perfect timing.

"Apart from the obvious situation, do you believe that the issue of limited availability will arise?" Martouf asked, glancing from Jolinar to Selmak. He would not be present at the briefing.

"You mean the fact that we should have been warned by an operative," Jolinar answered.

"That is no new question," Selmak reminded Martouf. "With this issue having plagued us from the beginning, this is for damage control alone; we have no new resources to design a new strategy for."

"We almost lost both you and Jolinar recently," Lantash surfaced to say. "It appears that we have not been using our current resources well. And yes, I know that some of it cannot be helped, but I am not content nevertheless."

Selmak nodded slightly, with a hint of wry in his tone. "I would not have expected you to be content."

"There is, and has always been, only one solution," Jolinar added, quietly as she stirred her food. "But it involves consolidating our purposes."

"You mean cutting off our alliances and efforts to aid trading partners, I assume," Lantash clarified, but Sam and Jolinar could both see from his look that it was only a rhetoric question.

"We must always make that decision—how much can we afford to give and possibly damage our mission, and how much we cannot afford to lose by isolating ourselves." Jolinar spoke with words that came easily on this subject, and the quiet determination Sam felt from her triggered Sam's own thoughts. She couldn't hide that she had always supported a more generous policy; but she did not resent Jolinar's comment on that, that she had always worked for a leadership who could afford to be beneficial. And in the end, Jolinar was not ready for the Tok'ra to do all that she said, even if they would have considered it.

By the time they had run through all these thoughts, several minutes had passed without words at the table. Both of the other two pair were eating quietly, heads downward as if in private thought. Sam remembered once wondering why the Tok'ra did not speak to each other often, and now more than ever realized that one would not be so quick to seek other companions when at least one was always present. Jolinar then had a moment of remembrance herself, and let Sam have a glimpse of old feelings, what it was like when despite the two minds she had felt alone in the world. Sam didn't have anything to say, and Jolinar indicated by the way she moved on that she hadn't expected words in response.

Glancing across the mess hall, Jolinar caught sight of three new figures entering. Sam wasn't familiar with everyone on this base—not even Jolinar was—but these uniforms were different, those of the Risa system as Jolinar's memory told Sam. And the figure in the lead was the Malek that Jolinar had spoken of.

"Old friends have arrived," she murmured aloud as she excused herself from the table. Crossing the hall with easy stride, Sam caught sight of Malek in both real time and in a memory that Jolinar recalled at that moment. Sam couldn't help but be surprised at Malek's host, with a face that was almost the picture of a romance hero, complete with tousled dark hair. She quickly quelched it as Jolinar seemed a bit offended at such a comparison. And as she shared the memory with Sam, Sam realized why.

It was only brief flashes in the short steps it took to make it across the room, but Sam saw ships and Jaffa and tunnels on a planet that was not like this one. And Jolinar, in the ship, swooping down from the skies to take the shot that would have destroyed the base. She barely made it unscathed from the ship to grasp the hand of Malek, grateful for reinforcements and surprised at Jolinar's reckless act. With the gate destroyed in the attack, they had had a week of being on the run from remaining Jaffa on the planet, gathering supplies and people and waiting for the rescue. Malek was hard-willed but fair, and kept strict protocol even among the chaos. But he had not taken Jolinar under his wing, but instead gave her and Rosha free reign to plant traps, play guerilla warrior, not just run and live to fight another day. Malek respected that, and Jolinar respected him for it, as one of the few Tok'ra who would.

"Malek," Jolinar spoke, as the memory disappeared and was replaced by the picture of Malek today, no different after those decades.

His face, twisted in a slight worried frown, smoothed as he saw them. "Jolinar?" he asked, though seemingly sure.

"Indeed," she answered, a slight smile finding its way on her face.

He smiled back, stepping forward to clasp her in a firm embrace. "It has been some time, comrade," he said, with a firm clap on her back as they separated. "I heard of what happened, but urgent events trailed me ever since. But I was glad to hear of your safety."

"This is Samantha," Jolinar said, introducing her in Tok'ra fashion. Sam had no need to come forward to say anything.

"So I heard," said Malek, with a nod of greeting. "Leyon greets both of you as well, and like myself was not surprised to hear that your new host is not of the usual kind."

Sam balked for a moment, wondering if he was making a jab at Jolinar's error in meeting with Sam. But Jolinar's emotions were smooth, and she let her response inform both Sam and Malek. "The Tauri are not usual in any sense," she said. "Our contact has been strained, but if Selmak's experience with Jacob is any further evidence, it has not been failure."

"You and Selmak, of course," answered Malek, with a friendly half-snort. "It should never surprise me when we meet because of your actions."

"And yet it has not been so in reverse, which is surprising to me," Jolinar answered. "I have heard nothing of Risa for many seasons, which seems to belie all that I have seen of you and it."

"We are careful to keep from anything that might prove infamous," said Malek, with a slight ease in his manner that transcended the ordered words. "And being separate from the High Council, there is a solidity that aids our conservatism."

Jolinar nodded. "Are you ready to meet with the Council?"

"Yes, I believe I have heard all that I need for the initiation," Malek answered. "Until then, I had hoped to speak with Selmak on a matter of trivial importance."

"He is this way," Jolinar said, and they walked over to the table.

Sam had one of her few moments where Jolinar's emotions made perfect sense, as the worries about the Council faded and left only interest in the people they cared about. Already, she was feeling that Malek was a war-brother to Jolinar, someone who did not just see her as another member of the same movement, but who could appreciate and be at ease with Jolinar the individual. Sam didn't need to know much else; she felt that she would have the same appreciation for Malek by the time he returned to his role in the Risa system.

ooooooo

Daniel hesitated before making a move. The entire team had just disappeared, the same way they had once reappeared only the day before. He didn't want to jump to conclusion and put his hand to his zat, but he also knew that he didn't have back up if he didn't stay on top of things.

"Captain Connor?" he called out. "Lieutenant Thaid? Lieutenant Satchel? Sergeant Briggs?" Nothing. "Okay, so we weren't off about the creepy," he said quietly to himself, taking a deep breath and looking around. Occam's Razor, that Mckay was so fond of, said that he should go to Tonane and explain everything, because they were probably "with the spirits" once again. Then again, he wasn't too sure that he knew how to get to Tonane.

A large crow flapped in front of him, landing in a tree some feet off. Daniel eyed it for a second, then turned to attempt to retrace his steps. He wasn't really scared, not yet; his heart was beating faster, but the way Thor had once inspired that emotion. Every time he thought the galaxy was becoming simple, it shook him like a rag doll.

He walked a few steps, then stopped. Ahead, on the path that he thought they had made, sat a big grey wolf. He made the connection to the crow in a second, and took another deep breath. Either this was coincidence, in which case he might be in danger from wolf attack, or the spirits had decided to pay him a visit after stealing SG-11.

"Takaya?" he asked, feeling more than a little silly. The wolf sat on her haunches, but didn't move. Her eyes watched Daniel carefully.

He turned back, and saw the crow fly over to a closer tree. "Right, I don't think this is coincidence," he said out loud. "My name is Daniel Jackson, and I'm a peaceful explorer. Could you please tell me who you are?"

A direct answer was not what he was expecting, and so the crow's quick caw almost made him jump. And strangely, he almost thought he heard "You first" in it's animalistic sound.

"Um, I already said that," he said, stumbling a little over his words. "The team that you took? They're my friends, and they don't mean anybody harm either. We're just curious about you, about your culture, about how you relate to Tonane's people. We didn't realize that we were doing anything wrong, if we were, which would be nice to know, if you could tell us for sure."

He glanced between them, but neither animal moved or made a sound. "Okay, you don't look too happy, but you also didn't make me disappear," he said, brainstorming as he went. "So, I don't think you're really sentient animals, which probably makes you some kind of being that can send out holograms or alter its image to other eyes. Is that close?"

Takaya yawned, shook her grey wolf head in a vague diagonal motion.

"Is that yes or no?" Daniel asked cautiously.

"You are Daniel Jackson," came a creak from behind him, prompting him to turn suddenly. Before his eyes, he saw Xels stretch and transform, changing height and size to become another humanoid alien, silver robed and with strange gills across its face. "You speak for the leaders of your people?"

Daniel swallowed, looking back to see that Takaya had dropped the disguise too. He wasn't sure if he was glad to be right at this moment. "I'm just an archaeologist," he said, clearing his throat a little.

"We think otherwise," said Xels. "We saw how your leaders respect you, and how you know them."

"You did?" Daniel's mind flitted through telepathy, omnipotence, seers, and tracking devices all in an instant.

"Those who you call SG-11 never returned to you," explained Takaya, walking past him to stand by Xels. Their stance was stiff and regal, befitting a race that posed as this race's gods, perhaps.

Daniel frowned. "You pretended to be them. Just like you pretend to be the ancient spirits of the Salish people."

"All for their own good, yes," said Xels shortly, firmly.

"That is not what we are to talk to you about," Takaya continued before Daniel could collect his thoughts. "You, Daniel Jackson. Are we to trust your people?"

"Wait, what?" Daniel asked, confused. "Shouldn't it be, should we trust you? You still have our people captive, and you've deceived us at least once."

"We feared what you would do to Tonane if he did not grant your requests," said Takaya. "We have not worked for their benefit all these hundreds of years, only to let you ruin them with your ways."

Daniel had lost the original question, listening to everything else that was in or underneath their words. "You're the ones who banished the Goa'uld from this planet," he said. "You saved the Salish, but you didn't leave them alone."

Xels and Takaya looked to each other, and Daniel wondered if he was pushing it.

"We don't mean any disrespect," he said, putting out a hand. "But in our culture, we value free will and honesty. If you do too, we mean you no harm. We certainly don't intend to do anything to Tonane or his people."

"And your leaders?" Takaya asked.

"I believe they mean well," said Daniel, nodding after only a second's hesitation. "You need not fear them, not now."

"Then we will return your people to you," said Xels, raising his arms.

"Wait, not yet," Daniel called out, putting his hand out again. He had too many questions. Their eyebrows rose. "If you want to protect Tonane's people, why do you pose as their gods like the Goa'uld?"

"They are young," said Xels. "And cannot see what dangers lie down certain paths. We keep them from those paths, but we do not control their lives."

"But surely," Daniel said, thinking that now he was starting to understand, "you could do that without this ruse. You let me see you like this, why not Tonane?"

"They are younger than you," said Takaya. "They would not understand."

Daniel half shrugged. "They know you, they care about you; do you really think that they care what you look like? Have you ever tried?"

Once again, the two aliens shared a look. Then Xels turned to Daniel. "You may be wise, Daniel Jackson, but this is not the time. Your team will be returned to you, and then you may leave freely. We will never harm the Salish, and you and your people will be safe as long as you do the same."

Daniel bit back his curiosity, slowly realizing exactly how dangerous could be. "What do you call yourselves?" he asked, once last question.

"The spirits of the Salish," Xels answered. Before Daniel could say anything else, Xels and Takaya clapped their forearms together. They were gone in a flash of light.

"Dr. Jackson? What are you doing here?"

Daniel turned, and saw SG-11, looking less than confident and more than confused. But this time, it was the real one. "It's a long story," he said, realizing that in this case, he was the only one who could tell it.

ooooooo

The new Council chamber grown for this day was set up in a manner that Sam immediately admired. Crystal benches were arranged in a horseshoe shape, allowing for all to see each other, but the acoustics allowed for a lack of microphones. By midday, all the members called to this impromptu council were arrived and fully refreshed.

Jolinar and Sam took the least of the places at the edge of the circle, and Selmak and Jacob took the seat next to Garshaw in the center, with Ren'al taking her other flank. Malek was somewhere several seats down, and neither Sam nor Jolinar knew the rest well. Garshaw opened with her own thoughts, and then immediately Sam and Jolinar were called on to give testimony.

Jolinar felt no need to keep track of anything for posterity, and so Sam found it difficult to remember what exactly had been said as soon as they finished speaking. They had been completely honest, though, about the situation—just not, perhaps, how they came about this information.

After the facts were laid out, they sat down and swiftly withdrew from the focus. The other Tok'ra had good memories, and did not need to call on Jolinar or Sam for information as they began to debate points. Sam wasn't so much interested in the current decision, so much as why it needed to be made. As the talking continued, Jolinar also stopped keeping track to clarify with Sam just what was the issue.

_~Why would taking out Quetesh be such an issue, if she's a minor Goa'uld?~_

_*Morale. It is something that cannot be predicted, but can easily be influenced. The removal of a god, especially if it is not by another god, will be remembered by all who hear. It could inspire a revolution, which if it happened unexpectedly could bring total chaos.*_

_~And how is that bad again?~_

_*If one Goa'uld wins out over all the others, he will be vastly more difficult to defeat, and vastly more motivated to pillage and conquer. By balancing the infighting, the Tok'ra keep the galaxy in a state of flux that we can one day take advantage of to destroy the Goa'uld entirely.*_

_~So you think.~_

_*So we plan.*_

Sam paused, listening to the debate going on as she heard a name she recognized.

"We have more to worry from than benefit from with Ba'al at this point," said Johanen, a female Tok'ra with an older host of Asian descent. "It was his attack on Apophis that distracted him long enough for Sokar to make his move, and if Sokar succeeds in his plans, then we will have lost Apophis through Ba'al. It seems wise to let Quetesh loosen his hold."

There was a quiet murmur for a few seconds, and Sam wondered how the debate was going.

"Nay, nay," spoke up Thoran, frowning deeply. "Ba'al is grown arrogant indeed, and it seems that Quetesh is aware of it. If she knows where to strike, Ba'al could become crippled for many years to come."

"I do not see the problem with that, brother," said Noren, a representative who had arrived with Malek. "Has he not proven dangerous to us?"

"And dangerous to the Goa'uld," Kanan answered before Thoran could speak. He, like Malek, was in a younger host's body, but his eyes were aged beyond any but perhaps Selmak or Garshaw. "Ba'al's cunning has been a threat to them, and will remain so as long as he is in any power. They may ignore him, but they do not forget. And he does not give in. Cripple him, and he will return eventually, but in the meantime the Goa'uld will have a safety net."

"And Quetesh will be in power," Thoran followed on, pointedly. There were some meaning-filled looks among the Council, glancing back and forth, with no firm answer.

Jolinar silently thought her firm agreement, and Sam wished she knew more.

_*The last time I saw Quetesh,* _Jolinar said reluctantly. _*I goaded her for the sake of spurring her to foolish action, regaining her trust after we had been separated and then declaring myself Tok'ra. It seemed to work, and after winning the first attack I made it back safely. But she did not react as planned, and managed to see through our plan and discover how I escaped. She followed the trail as long as she could, decimating any village that might have housed us, and nearly discovering the base itself in the end. An operative left behind in her court was discovered and tortured, as she guessed that we would have left a contingency plan. The attack did its job in the end, but it was a bitter failure for the Tok'ra.*_

_~Why do you feel guilt for it?~ _Sam asked, feeling the weight of Jolinar's feeling.

_*Such a bold plan would never have been attempted were it not for my background,* _Jolinar said. _*Yes, the Tok'ra Council approved and expanded upon my suggestion, but it was my miscalculation that is the root of the entire debacle.*_

And Sam knew that the death of a comrade among the Tok'ra, so soon after joining their ranks, had not helped; it would have troubled Sam under normal circumstances, and she had never been in a situation like Jolinar's. There were no further "whys" about the guilt.

_~So neither Ba'al nor Quetesh can be in strong power, but the Tok'ra need them to play off each other and the other Goa'uld?~_

_*In essence, yes.*_

_~And what about Sokar?~_

_*He is an old player, like Apophis,* _Jolinar answered. _*Sokar has a colder, straighter intelligence, and technological superiority in mass.*_

Jolinar's words trailed off, and rather than try to explain, she worked with her growing blending with Sam, creating a mental map of all she carried with her about the hierarchy under discussion. And Sam reached out, feeling the way the thoughts were like sounds and pictures and not, all at once, almost as if the thoughts themselves were transposing themselves over Sam's mind to where she could "feel" them. It was too large for Jolinar to understand and picture, and too large for Sam to comprehend all at once. But she remembered Heru'ur, and the level of information kept about him alone, and Jolinar's mental chuckle as her mind swirled at the idea of that being understood for all the Goa'uld was completely understanding.

There was no way to understand it all, unless you had lived it all. Jolinar felt inadequate, for all that she knew more than Sam, relying on a thankfully reliable intuition to guide her. Despite the string of mistakes lately, she had not had to depend on luck for success very often, and though she wished for Sam's assurance through knowledge, the current situation made her content.

The debate had continued on outside of them, going back and forth among speaker after speaker.

"We cannot underestimate the resources necessary to commit to this course of action," cautioned Malek, speaking for only the second time during this entire council. "Look at what brought this situation so strangely to our attention, and then tell me that we can afford to carry this out properly."

"Quetesh's domain is small," objected Sina, who sat next to Malek. "The coverage needed would be minimal, and the commodity most needed would be time. Time to make sure that every complexity is accounted for. But we have that time; we need not saturate the situation with operatives that we, as you said, do not have. If the right steps are taken in the beginning, she will not be ready to attack."

"You bring to light that point again, Sina, which was mentioned earlier and not fully discussed," said Noren. "And that is that she is determined to attack Ba'al, and believes herself nearly ready. We did not keep close enough watch on the situation to know immediately how best to put those steps in place to slow her advance."

"No, Noren, I do not believe that that will be an issue," said Malek, brow furrowed but without a frown. "Quetesh's manner will make deep absorption of the operatives we assign go swiftly; she is no Ba'al, even if she seeks his power and his role."

The discussion turned again, and Jolinar grew lost in the words, remembering that they were discussing this neutrally. There was no thinking of this issue in terms of Jolinar's mission, merely a new mission that would require new priorities. For a few minutes, she and Sam let fly their argument for why they would need to volunteer and insist on taking this mission. Sam had caught enough of the talk to know that this would not be an easy, or short, one, but strangely that didn't seem to matter anymore.

All their past goals, ideas, with relation to saving the Abydonians, seemed without proper plan or logical reason now. They had been emotional wishes, and rather than laying it all out before, they had laid each step out as they went along. Sam was just as pleased with Jolinar to know that, if all went well, this mission would have much more of a chance of success.

Sam felt the pull of the web of intrigue and political machinations that defined the Tok'ra's mission among the Goa'uld heirarchy. The widespread dissemination of resources and back-up plans, constantly readjusted with each change in the world outside of the plan, and all preparing for one day in the future when it could all be used to fullest advantage. It was supporting, and stifling all at the same time. Jolinar knew the appreciation for a good plan as well, but she was pleased to feel Sam's desire for just a little more breathing room.

_~I can't believe I ever thought of doing this unblended,~ _one stray thought escaped from Sam's thoughts.

Jolinar could not agree more dramatically.

Hours had now passed, and at last the Council broke for recess. Sam and Jolinar failed to catch the last tone in the room, but as they all walked out, Malek and Selmak fell in stride.

"It seems that they finally acknowledge that this terror has gone on too far," Malek murmured.

"Yes, Jolinar, you need not fear; my voice will be in favor of this action," Selmak said.

"Indeed, it seems that your voice has found new strength, Selmak," said Malek, looking to him.

"If you have spoken at all to Samantha, you would understand the source," said Selmak amiably.

Jolinar and Sam had a simultaneous moment of satisfaction. If their friends were correct, then the decision prognosis appeared favorable towards them. And Sam could guess, and Jolinar guess more educatedly, that Selmak was as much at peace and comfort as he had ever been. Jacob had not spoken, but Sam felt his presence, and was glad that were going well for him and Selmak.

Nothing was decided yet, but the best thing about issues that relied on logical debate and rationalization was that the end could easily be predicted. And Sam and Jolinar were ready to take on the destruction of Quetesh and subsequent rescue of the Abydonian people as their official mission.


	48. Requests

**Chapter 47 - Requests**

The second session of the Tok'ra Council moved much more quickly through the information. As expected, the vote was eventually in favor of removing Quetesh from power as soon as could be achieved. After that, the impacts for the domains of each leader present were brought up and addressed, and after nearly another hour of discussion, the real issue was finally brought to the table.

It was immediately clear that there were very few free resources available to the Tok'ra. This was no surprise, and as soon as the issue of which operatives should be sent, Sam and Jolinar were finally called on again.

"As we saw on our mission, the clearest point of access is Dorieth," Jolinar explained. "Quetesh's plans seem to converge there, and the activity and turnover is ideal for a mission that requires quick and deep penetration into enemy territory."

"That would be as a Jaffa," Ren'al clarified.

Jolinar nodded. "Samantha and I are prepared to take on this role to its completion."

There were some surprised looks around the table. "Do you think this wise, given your previous interaction with Quetesh?" Garshaw questioned.

"In our short mission, we had the good fortune to achieve a level of trust among the people of Dorieth," Jolinar explained, channeling Sam's easy way of stating things as facts. "It would not be easy for a new operative to do so, nor is it a position that would highlight past mistakes. Quetesh would not recognize this host, nor is she likely to guess when we are posing as a Jaffa. We are uniquely qualified for this mission."

"And you realize the extent and scope of this task?" Garshaw asked, tone heavy.

"We do," Jolinar answered.

"I see no reason to disturb this good fortune," said Thoran. "Then Jolinar, Samantha, you will receive further instructions shortly on what your first steps should be, but you may return to Dorieth at whatever time seems most necessary. We will be in contact with future developments."

Jolinar nodded, inwardly exuberant with Sam. Neither suspected that this would totally fail, but this fell in line with all their hopes, and while Sam was ready to praise intuition, Jolinar for once felt indebted to luck.

She and Sam excused themselves as the last minor issues were irrelevant to their situation. Martouf and Lantash were waiting, quietly expectant.

"Quetesh will be eliminated," Jolinar said, granting them a smile.

"That is very good," said Martouf, face lighting up.

"Do not rejoice for us yet," she cautioned back. "Samantha and I were in a unique and valuable situation, and felt obliged to volunteer for primary infiltration."

Martouf's face half fell, and Jolinar was not surprised. "What then?" he asked with a sigh. There was a weariness to his face that had rarely been a stranger since Sam had first met him.

"It is our last urgent task, I am certain," Jolinar said, the ache deep in her chest filling Sam's sensations just as fully. "And then—and then things will come to a head." Things. Everything that had happened in the past three months, the change and turmoil and compromises, and it would all be brought to the table at the end of this. The limbo of Jolinar and Sam, of her relationship with Martouf and Lantash, and of Sam's continuing relationship with them all. It would be a long time in coming.

Martouf closed his eyes, holding the weariness there for a moment, then opened them with a quiet smile. "You are determined, as always."

"I intend to make things right," she said, stepping closer to a point where she was looking up at their face. "Whatever it takes. We will do what is necessary, but in order."

Martouf's hand strayed to the crook of her elbow, brushing softly through the fabric and forcing a spike in Jolinar's self control and focus. He frowned. "This mission, it is not mere coincidence."

Jolinar took all efforts not to tense or flinch at the sudden change of the subject of her thoughts. "Hm?"

"Your old enemy, a new enemy to Samantha and Sha're, and the news coming to you and giving you the opportunity to be the ideal operative," he said, face unreadable even as Jolinar tried with all her piercing intuition. "I cannot see what small actions tie them all together, but I would feel more comfortable if I could."

"My love, I do not even try to do that," Jolinar said, sighing. "There is not enough time in the world to think so much over each action."

"Lantash does not wish to agree," Martouf answered, the heaviness being once again pushed away from his face and replaced with softer, lighter emotions. He bent to press a soft kiss on her forehead, slipping his arm around her waist. "Come, you look well worn from talking and staid council meetings. We can find something else to do until they retire at last."

For a moment, Jolinar forgot about the hidden agendas, forgot about the frustration at being away from those she loved, and merely bathed in her own quiet love as it flowed forth. They walked side by side towards the mess hall, her arm matching his as it sat around his waist, leaning into each other with a closeness that couldn't be learned. And Sam forgot everything that it all meant, and let all the complications melt away into the river of love that Jolinar felt free to share with her.

ooooooo

After all the briefing and mission reports and documentation, Daniel finally realized that he was glad for the new policies. The more time passed, the more he saw just how close the Salish spirits had come to being a threat to the SGC for no other reason than that his government could be idiotic. As much as they needed exploration, they did not need to destroy hopes of betterment before they even manifested. No, they wouldn't get any trinium from PXY-887. But they also wouldn't disappear in a flash.

Mckay was still improving, and SG-1 itself would be going on a check-up mission to the Land of Light in another couple days, leaving Daniel with little to do around the base for the time being. Just for variety's sake, he gathered up his notes on the Salish spirits and headed for Mckay's lab to ask him about scientific possibilities.

He was halfway down the hall when he was hailed from behind. "Jackson!" The clipped voice was female, and one he happened to recognize. Turning, eyebrows raised, he saw Clare Tobias, head of the engineering department. Young, blonde, military, and incredibly smart, she reminded him almost painfully of a Samantha Carter—just for facts, not theory.

"Yes?" he answered to her hail.

She was in a lab coat over BDU pants and t-shirt, but didn't look like she had science on your mind. "C'mere, I need to talk to you." She beckoned with a hand to her lab across the hall.

Daniel had no idea what it meant, but he followed. He'd hardly ever talked to the woman, but Mckay had, and as usual it wasn't resounding praise, even though Daniel knew that that meant nothing.

"I need a favor," she said, hands thrust comfortably in her coat pockets. "You're good at convincing people, and I have someone who needs to be convinced."

Daniel glanced around. "Why are we talking about it here?"

"Oh, it's a surprise," Clare continued. "See—are you close to Dr. Mckay?"

"Well, it's not like we go out to dinner or anything," Daniel answered, confused but able to answer the questions anyway.

"Just as long as you aren't best friends," Clare said. "Okay, so, he's not that popular with a lot of the science department here. Most of us think it's good when he gets taken down a few pegs."

Daniel nodded, keeping track so far.

"So, when we were supposed to be recruiting new blood for the place, we thought we'd push his buttons if we could. Did you know he has a sister?" Off Daniel's surprised look, she carried on. "Yes, well, they don't seem to get along too well, but she's an astrophysicist so we thought we'd get her here and have someone who could rip a hole in him."

Daniel frowned.

"Yeah, I know," Clare said with a sigh. "See, that was before he went and almost died. We don't have any ideas about revenge or jokes now, but the problem is—his sister's a damn good scientist. I mean, really good. As good as him, if not better. We really do want to bring her in now, but the problem is that she completely rebuffed our first recruiters. She's got a bit of a civilian complex."

"And so you want me to talk to her?" Daniel guessed, thinking things over as she paused.

"That's it," said Clare brightly. "And we'd like it to be a surprise for him. You can say no, of course; she's Canadian, so it'd be a bit of a ways to go. But I assure you, her past record is amazing, and if we can get her now while she's in her prime...there's no telling the kind of things she might do here."

Daniel nodded slowly to himself. "I'll see what I can do."

"Thanks, Jackson!" Clare finished. "Jean Miller's her married name, if you do decide to take a look."

Daniel nodded a farewell, and walked back to his lab, his own hands in his pockets. Two geniuses in the same family...he wondered if they didn't seem that close because they were too similar, or too different. And he hoped the latter. He wasn't quite open-minded enough to willingly recruit another Mckay.

ooooooo

As soon as the Council finally broke up, there was an almost instant mass exodus. The meeting had been quickly called, and the leaders wouldn't linger. One who did, however, was Malek. Sam was surprised to hear that he wanted to speak with Selmak and Jolinar on the subject of weaponry. Jolinar, she understood, but she had no idea that Selmak had any specialty in that area.

Judging by the eyebrow raise, Selmak was equally surprised. "Oh?"

"One of my scientists has been conducting studies on the efficiency of the power modules," Malek explained, pulling one of the small finger-guns from a pocket in his robe. "And as a result, he traced back some trends to former models. He is convinced that the closer he gets to the older design, the better and more accurate it gets, but at the moment he is embroiled in the middle of the spectrum where nothing works. We can only compare his work to current models, so we hoped for your opinion on how close it is to the originals."

"Of course," said Selmak. "I cannot assure you that my memories are not tinged, but you do not care for that, I suppose."

"More likely, I have no other choice," said Malek with a twisted smile. "And Jolinar, perhaps you would like to assess the more practical options?"

Sam would have grinned if Jolinar had not. New technology and new weaponry in one item brought joy to both their hearts. With Martouf and Lantash as observers, the others made their way to a makeshift firing range deep in the Tok'ra base.

Selmak had the first go, and Sam watched with interest as her dad moved with a grace of motion she hadn't ever seen, certainly not in the past decade, bringing up her last good memories of her father that Jolinar paid quiet but close attention to. And Sam didn't seem to mind. After all, her dad was fully Tok'ra now, and his past would be open to them all; who was Sam to hold back a few precious memories out of a need for privacy that she had already let go in compromise.

When Selmak had little to comment on other than "It stirs up memories, but does not strike a solid chord on any particular one," Malek turned the weapon over to Jolinar. There was a gleam in his eye, and Sam felt Jolinar match it. He knew what was coming, and he wasn't alone. They all stepped back, giving Jolinar the most area on the range. Sam felt her muscles start to tense up in anticipation, and Jolinar started to think in ways that Sam knew. No math calculations, at least not in Sam's terms, but the quick strategy flashes were in a language they both understood.

Jolinar fired off a few practice shots, feeling the weight and pull of the weapon. The power was stable, and there wasn't much of a jerk. And then, Jolinar started her routine. Up, down, out and in, she moved both arm and body quickly as she let the energy streams tear into the wall of the range. Angle after angle, position after position, she was nominally testing the weapon's range itself—but no one in her head or in the room was under any illusion. This was an indulgence of power, and it thrilled her.

"You have been commissioning deficient workmanship, Malek," she said after a few minutes, after the shots that fizzled or arced became more frequent.

"It's but a work in progress," he said, smiling and coming up to take it.

_~Can I get a turn?~ _Sam asked, curious.

"A moment, Malek," said Jolinar. "My host wishes her chance."

Malek's eyebrows scarcely rose, and he stepped back to stand by Martouf and Lantash once again.

"I used to use hand weapons almost exclusively," Sam said once in control, with a smile and a nod to Malek. "Not these kind, but I'm thinking it won't be too hard an adjustment."

Even seeing Jolinar's thoughts, feeling her movements, Sam hadn't experienced the true firing of this weapon. Now, active in her own body again, she felt the difference. Jolinar was thinking about the idiosyncrasies just as much, but there was something else present. Sam's stance shifted, and she readjusted the weapon on her hand.

She took a deep breath, let it out, and then sent off a few rounds in a cluster at the center of the wall. A smile crept onto her face. Oh, she liked this. Visualizing the human-shaped targets of her old range, she sent the next few shots down to the area she imagined as a chest. One shot arced off, nicking an imaginary arm. She paused, remembering how it felt. Sending off another few shots, she felt the jerk of the tiny weapon, feeling the rhythm of the power surges. Just before the last shot, she felt a slight swirl to the surge, and flicked her hand just fractions of an inch. The shot curved around and landed right in the center of the imaginary head.

_~That couldn't have been all me,~ _she thought to Jolinar, astonished.

_*The control, no, but the ideas were firmly yours.*_

"Impressive, Sam." This time it was Jacob's voice, not Selmak's. She turned around, feeling just a little exhilarated.

"You handled these kinds of weapons before joining the Tok'ra?" Malek asked, surprise clear on his face.

"Not particularly," she explained. "They were projectile guns, just a whole lot more advanced than that sounds. We needed to conserve ammunition, so I worked a lot on my aim, and thankfully those principles carry over."

"Mm," said Malek, looking thoughtful.

Sam slipped the weapon off, feeling how it had become slightly warm, and handed it back to him. "That was fun," she said.

"I shall have to keep this in mind the next time I return here," said Malek. Off Sam's slightly confused look, he continued. "Jolinar does not use these weapons usually, as you've probably noticed; I came to her not as an expert, but as someone who I knew would give me an honest assessment untinged by expertise."

"Well, I'm no expert either," said Sam, smiling.

"I should not have expected that on your first outing," Malek answered with a dry half-chuckle. "I am sure that both your feedback will be greatly appreciated."

Selmak snorted.

"Oh, and yours as well," said Malek, turning to walk back to the others, Sam following.

"You miss carrying weapons," Martouf commented, nodding towards Sam.

"Maybe a little," she said.

"It is that, or else there is another reason for this unprecedented exuberance," he answered, smile spreading. "What has you so cheered?"

Sam sighed, but it wasn't in weariness. "It's maybe a little hard to explain," she said. In the slight pause, Jolinar could no more articulate such emotions than she ever had before, and Sam had to give her best shot. "I think this mission will go well."

"And your others did not?" Martouf asked.

"It wasn't the same," she said simply, and smiled a last smile.

"I suppose it does not matter," he finished, as Malek and Selmak were already leaving the range. "Although," he added in a tone low enough for only them to hear, "Lantash believes it might be pride at being a slightly better shot than Jolinar."

Sam bit back a laugh, and Jolinar was reluctantly amused. Tomorrow, things were going to get worrisome again, they knew for sure. But with luck on their side, and the simple joy of firing weapons just behind her, they felt refreshed. And with Sam's father, Selmak, Martouf, Lantash, even Malek, she and Jolinar didn't feel alone either. Two such rare feelings reminded them that things could get a lot worse.

ooooooo

Malek left a couple hours later, and Martouf sighed and said that he and Lantash had other duties to attend to. Sam wanted to ask Selmak a little more about the Council's deliberations, but that didn't take long either, and it was early afternoon when Jolinar pointed out that they had to make bigger preparations for this upcoming mission than before.

Before anything else, Jolinar wanted to eat again, and so Sam started taking them up the tunnels to the mess hall. They passed near their quarters, and just a few feet beyond they were halted by a voice.

"Sa'm?"

Neither Sam nor Jolinar had the reflex to control the instant tensing of all their muscles, and the relaxation of before began to fade quickly away. "Sha're," Sam said, turning around.

But she didn't look imposing. All awkward and tense memories melted away from them as they looked at her face. She wasn't holding Shifu, but stood with hands loosely clasped before her. Head high, hair pulled back so that they could see all the lines and dark circles that had shown up since the ill-fated meeting. But there was neither pride nor weariness in her eyes, only pain and desperation.

"I am sorry, Sa'm," she began, voice almost steady. "I should not have stayed away."

Sam unconsciously took a step closer, her gaze soft. "It's nothing" she assured quietly, not knowing how to continue.

 "It is," Sha're objected, but taking a slight step towards her. "I thought I did not want to see you again, because—" Her voice trailed off for a second.

"Because I did something before you were ready," Sam filled in for her.

"I behaved in poor fashion, putting the blame on you for doing something that I would have had to do," Sha're continued, voice rising in volume and hurry. "And I am sorry, I did not mean to, and I need you to forgive me."

"Of course, it's nothing," Sam said again without hesitation. Her brow furrowed at Sha're's worn and nervous face. "Don't worry, Sha're, really."

"It is not only your words I need," Sha're said, taking a deep breath. "I need—I cannot stay here with Shifu. I cannot live like this." She paused, fingers brushing away a loose tear from one eye. "Please, Sa'm, I need you to get us home to Dan'yel. I do not know if it is possible, and I do not care what happens afterwards, but...please," she ended, voice losing its strength just on the last word.

Sam swallowed. Sha're wanted to go to Earth. Jolinar's mind was faster, thinking about the mission and how it would consume their time, worrying that they would have to deny Sha're entirely. "What do you mean?" Sam asked allowed, buying a little time.

"You took us from Abydos," Sha're explained, voice hesitant. "In a ship. I know that you cannot go back, Sa'm, not yet, but if you just take me there..."

"By ship," Sam grabbed onto, thinking, collating. _~Wait...~_

_*The hyperdrive journey would be too long, there are no ships near to Earth in distance.*_

_~But how long are we talking about? A couple days?~_

_*No, weeks.*_

_~That can't be right; how could Apophis make it to Earth in less than a day?~_

_*The newest forms of hyperdrive are not widespread yet.*_

_~You're sure?~_ Sam didn't need to follow up on her prompt. Just as she had thought of it, Jolinar carried it onward, and soon one person was in both their minds. Reyfa and Dru'ri. Neither Sam nor Jolinar had kept up with burgeoning technology among the Tok'ra; who knew what was possible.

"Sa'm?" asked Sha're hesitantly.

"Sha're, I can't promise anything," said Sam, reaching out to take her friend's hand, looking straight into her weary eyes. "But I think you may have something."

Sha're's eyes were too tired to light up, but Sam saw the faint glow of hope. "Yes?"

"We will try," Sam said, nodding. She looked down, then back up to Sha're. "Are you okay? Have you talked to Larys or Dorin?"

"I will be fine if I may get home," Sha're said with a weak smile. "Thank you, Sa'm." Sam let her hand drop, and Sha're turned to leave.

_~Earth. She wants to go back to Earth.~ _As she watched Sha're trudging back to wherever she and Shifu were staying, Sam realized exactly what she had been talking about.

_*And you?* _Jolinar knew the answer before Sam said it.

_~Can't. Don't want to, not now. It would be pointless, worse than pointless. But I didn't think; I'm not used to thinking of things in terms of ships and hyperspace. With the Stargate closed off to us, I didn't think about anything else.~_

Jolinar paused for a moment, thinking too fast for Sam to catch anything in particular. She seemed to light up with an idea. _*This could be as useful as anything. If it is possible to adapt the hyperdrive to a tel'tac or al'kesh, then we may fly to Earth. Your SGC facility was underground, and so we can fly cloaked to a spot just outside. We will not be seen, and Sha're and Shifu may be ringed down, and we can be gone before they try to fire.*_

Sam caught on quickly. _~And after the Abydonians are rescued, perhaps by then they will trust Sha're's word about us.~_

_*Precisely.*_

Sam felt a twinge of fear. _~And if they do catch us, somehow?~_

_*I do not see it happening,* _Jolinar assured. _*We will be safe, and so will Sha're once they determine that we were not deceiving them about her.*_

_~It's bold.~_

_*But you don't care.*_

_~At this point, no. It's Sha're, and she deserves this. And maybe it'll give us a chance to—to stop the cycle of betrayal. That's really all I care about anymore.~_

With a new plan suddenly on their mind, Jolinar knew that this plan would take at least a couple days, and Sam knew it would take more planning and permission. They needed to talk to Reyfa and Dru'ri, then to the Council if it was at all possible, and then get this all into motion. And somewhere along the line, they had the most important thing of the moment for them both, to stop Quetesh from destroying all the Tok'ra had worked for and to fix their mistakes once and for all.

The peace of earlier in the day had gone, but the optimism had not. Sam was hopeful, and Jolinar wouldn't have countered that even if she could. Things were possible, probable maybe, it was just going to take a lot of work and time. Thankfully, they seemed to have that.

—

**Author's Notes: **Thank you so much everyone for your feedback! I'm glad to see that you're mostly enjoying it, but I also appreciate the critiques. If you have any specific issues, I'll be happy to try to address them. Just a couple notes, though, about the overall plot and genre—for many reasons, the two sides will not be fully meeting for a while. Also, while there is action in this story, it's not an action story. It's a character story, with action. There will be more coming up, but I'm warning you now, it's not the main focus.


	49. Information

**Chapter 48 - Information**

"So anyway," the marine finished, shaking his grinning head, "I thought you of all people would get the joke."

SG-1 sat around a table in the commissary, looking to each other with disbelief. It wasn't just that they'd heard it all before, but that it just hadn't been that good the first time.

Jack leaned a little on his arm over the table, clearing his throat a little before speaking. "I'm not an expert," he began dryly, "but I think there's some problems with your logic. If you get scared half to death once, you're half dead. And if you get scared half to death again...it's just half of what you had left. Right, Mckay?"

Mckay opened his mouth to object automatically, then shut it, nodding his head with reluctant appreciation in Jack's direction.

"Right," Jack finished under his breath.

The marine looked at him, dumbfounded and with his bubble burst all at once. "Well, I thought it was just kind of funny," he murmured as he rose and left the table.

Jack let out a long sigh and turned back to his Fruit Loops. "Yep."

"Thank you, sir," said Dixon with a small grin.

"Don't mention it," Jack answered with a slightly pained one of his own

"Surprised you didn't say anything, Jackson," Dixon added.

"I was surprised Mckay didn't say anything first," answered Jackson, looking across to his scientist companion.

"Comments of such a schoolboy fashion are not even worth proper contempt," Mckay said flatly, taking a long sip of his coffee. After three weeks, the tissue injuries in his hand were well on their way to healing, and it was only the nerve damage that kept him from normal function. He could do simple tasks, but Dr. Brymon had him on strict orders to limit any strain.

"Ah, but the joys of sarcasm are not in how they make the other person feel, but in the catharsis," Daniel said.

"If that's true, then Teal'c, why don't you talk more?" asked Dixon, turning to where Teal'c sat silently at the end of their table.

"I am in agreement with DoctorMckay," Teal'c said in his low and steady voice. "It is not worth the effort."

"You know, that's kind of funny," said Dixon, chuckling. "You and Mckay agreeing on what to say and how..."

"Is that an insult?" Mckay asked suspiciously.

Dixon smiled contentedly and said nothing.

"Remind me again why we're having a team breakfast when I specifically said at the start of this that that's what I didn't want?" Jack asked, waving his Fruit Loop loaded spoon in Daniel's direction.

"Jack," Daniel said under his breath, drawing it out to two syllables. "Training exercise today. We're the lead team."

"This is a bad idea," Jack muttered.

"Well, it's not like we could do it anywhere else, or they'd know it was a drill," said Dixon quietly with a shrug.

"Technically, do we want people who aren't smart enough to figure out that it's a drill?" Mckay queried in low tone.

Daniel didn't bother to answer. Whether the arguments had weight or not, it wasn't their goal.

"Perhaps we should look on our mission as a personal challenge," Teal'c said under his breath. "Then it will have a purpose, even if it is only of our own making."

"Sure, sure," said Jack. He was looking at his breakfast, then stopped and looked at Teal'c. Jack's brow creased, Teal'c's eyebrow rose, and then Daniel could see the lights go on in Jack's head. A wicked gleam came to his eye, and Daniel sighed. "Right," said Jack knowingly, nodding and turning back to his food.

ooooooo

Sha're would have understood Sam and Jolinar's mindset as they prepared to leave the base once again. More depended on their presence on Dorieth than they could risk with too many absences, but they did make a rest stop along the way at Reyfa and Dru'ri's lab to ask the question. Reyfa volunteered to think about it, but she finished with: "But I only truly understand how current hyperspace travel functions; Anise is the only one who has explored theoretic changes."

With Jolinar's memories, Sam realized she should have known that. Jolinar squirmed emotionally, trying to disassociate her personal feelings about Anise from the simple task. Sam felt the struggle, but not completely. Jolinar surrendered to Sam's tolerance, and they moved on. Anise would have to wait.

Dorieth was waiting for them, the workflow unabated since her departure—if her appointed leaders could be believed. The visible progress supported their claims, and the road was neatly paved as far as one could see from the entrance to the village. But Jolinar was already seeing more than the details of the picture; their period of control would be lasting much longer than anticipated. They needed to settle in for the long haul.

Sam's first thought was for allies. They had avoided Kasuf and the Abydonians, not daring to let the former especially see through their disguise. It had been frustrating, but understandable. Sam now wondered if it would be better to have an insight into areas of the planet that Coron could not supervise.

_~Don't you think we can trust Kasuf to be discreet?~_

_*I don't like to rely on trust.*_

_~I know that, but we're trusting him either way. Either he knows our full secret, or some day he catches on to the fact that I wasn't a Jaffa when he met us.~_

_*Damn, you're right.*_

Somehow, they would need to find time for that. And hope there was enough to be convincing.

ooooooo

"Dr. Jackson, Dr. Jackson!" Daniel rounded the corner, and saw the petite Chloe Dorris. She was supporting, almost dragging, Mckay. The alarms were ringing, and Mckay's eyes were wide, his good hand clutching at his throat.

Daniel lowered his baretta, then glanced around one last time and thrust it back into his holster. He ran up, taking Mckay from the weaker scientist. "What's wrong? Where'd you come from?" he asked hurriedly.

"They've made it to our level," she explained through quick breaths. "I think he fought them off, but his asthma—I don't know if the infirmary's still safe."

"It's okay, I have an inhaler," said Daniel, reaching into his pocket as he supported the gasping Mckay. "We need to cut off the power before Teal'c can gate out; I think he has Walter under duress, so it's any moment before he gets the password."

"But we need two people to shut the grid down," Chloe protested.

Daniel grimaced, helping Mckay with his inhaler. "I can't make it there fast enough, not while he's like this."

"Maybe I can overload it," Chloe offered hurriedly.

"You know how to do that?" Daniel asked, eyebrows raised.

"Well, theoretically," she offered with a shrug.

Daniel handed her his gun. "I'll get us somewhere safe, you go do that."

She nodded, swallowing, and took the gun gingerly before dashing down the hall in flat-footed lab shoes that slapped against the hard floor.

Daniel, still holding Mckay up with one arm, ducked into the nearest lab and shut the door. He lowered Mckay into a chair, then rubbed his shoulder. "Ow. You didn't need to sell it that much."

Mckay magically had his strength and breathing back again. "If I had to sell it for her, I had to sell it for you. You aren't that strong."

"Not bad on the asthma attack, though. Hammond give you that tip?" Daniel asked, typing the password on the lab's computer that would bring up the security camera feeds.

"I had to improvise a little," Mckay said, shrugging. "She knew that Jack had just walked by, and I might have been on his side."

"Good thinking," said Daniel, watching the screens. "The gateroom's under attack, but I can't see if Walter held up."

"I wouldn't have expected that," Mckay said, coming to look over his shoulder. "Guh, those marines have no sense of strategy at all."

Daniel gave him a look. "As if you do? I didn't think theoretical science offered base defense tips."

Mckay snorted. "Jackson, this isn't base defense, this is LARPing."

Daniel cocked his head, suddenly confused.

"Live action role playing? Come on, you haven't been under a rock, have you?"

"You mean you used to do this sort of thing, for fun?" Daniel asked.

"No, I didn't," Mckay said, disdainfully. "But it's a big geek thing, so I'm at least aware of it."

Daniel snorted, half laughing. "Better not let Jack know that..."

Mckay chuckled back.

"And, she's in," said Daniel, focusing back on the screen. "Teal'c's giving me the sign—30 seconds left."

"Who else is left?" Mckay asked.

"Three of the new marines; Dixon diverted their plan to blow-torch their way into the gateroom, so their plan's a bit slow. Oh, wait, never mind." The screen went fuzzy for a second, then there was a blinding flash and all the lights snapped out.

"I guess she did it," said Mckay's voice in the dark.

"Not a bad training day," commented Daniel with a nod. "You know, this is kind of fun."

"LARPing," Mckay said again. "Way geeky."

ooooooo

Kasuf was not convinced. Jolinar found herself wanting to drag him back through the gate that night, thrust him in front of Sha're, and have her deal with it. Sam pointed out the hurt that that would bring up for both him and Sha're, and Jolinar grudgingly settled back down.

They'd keep trying. More importantly, they needed things to go smoothly. Quetesh's orders still remained to keep Kasuf always on the move, and Sam guessed by now that it had been in recognition of his will to rebel. She hadn't expected him to break, she just needed him too busy resisting to try anything else.

They received a message late in the evening, and Jolinar immediately worried.

_*We only just settled the Abydonians, and yet we are called to move them again. This could easily mean that the plan has changed.*_

_~Plans will change, they always change, we both know that.~_

_*So we delve deeper, quickly. We look for as much information as we can.*_

_~Do we know what this world is, that they're being transfered to?~_

_*It is like this one, perhaps, but I am not aware of much. Only that there is ore in plenty, and at least something like a laboratory.*_

_~Maybe weaponry, then?~_

_*Let us not speculate until we must.*_

ooooooo

The impromptu training scenario in the SGC was pronounced a success by Hammond, though he refused to say whose original idea it was. Now that the gig was up, in a sense, they couldn't achieve the same results again, and didn't want all their personnel to suspect that a real emergency might be a test.

Mckay tossed Daniel a look when they saw the report that future scenarios would be planned in advance, though made as realistic as possible and calling for honest reactions from all participants. Daniel found himself silently agreeing with Mckay's assessment.

Everyone on SG-1 had had a large role in the scenario, and had enjoyed the experience very well. However, as the team departed for a check-up mission to the Land of Light, the optimism wasn't unmoveable.

Mckay had been cleared for this mission, as there was nothing expected of the team other than to make contact and examine the progress the people had made. Jack had been surprised at Mckay's request for this clearance, but Daniel was positive he knew better. Mckay might be grumbling now about backwater civilizations, but this was a team mission nonetheless, and he seemed strangely comfortable with that.

Dixon was amused by the people here, and found himself breaking the tension from a more-easily-frustrated Jack. Daniel, having explored all the historical aspects of the planet, had nothing much to do when he wasn't dealing with diplomacy. He found himself thinking about Clare Tobias' request.

He'd called Jean Miller's number last night, but her husband Caleb had picked up. He'd been amiable, if slightly suspicious, and said that once Jean returned from the science conference she was attending, she might be willing to meet with him. Daniel faxed over his credentials, just for validity, and they ended amicably. Caleb was not the sort of person Daniel associated with the name Mckay, and he had higher hopes now about this recruitment than before.

ooooooo

Sam and Jolinar gathered together the slaves Quetesh called for early in the morning. It was some inconvenience to restructure the work teams, but they were careful not to show even a single sign of disapproval of their lord. No leniency now, if there ever had been.

If any of her division leaders found it surprising that Coron herself was transferring the group, none of them showed a sign either. The address was provided in Quetesh's message, and soon the gate was opened and they were on their way through.

Nouska, this new world, was not a surprise. The terrain by the gate was harsh and rough, with jagged rocks that crumbled upon hard impact. Only just beyond, mining structures struggled to maintain a firm footing on the unstable rock. The naquadah within was worth the fight, as always. Apart from the mines, Jolinar noted clearings beyond that bore the marks of Goa'uld civilization.

Another of Quetesh's Jaffa met Sam and Jolinar at the gate. "Come," he said, indicating the village beyond the mines. The Abydonians were apparently not to be miners.

Apart from this area itself, the planet's terrain in general looked rougher than anything on Dorieth. There was the benefit of consistency, however, which Sam soon pegged as important for many necessary aspects of war. Including research and development of new weaponry, which would also be tied to naquadah in this case. Jolinar couldn't help but catch on quickly to this train of thought, and had to agree.

"Your response time is exemplary," the Jaffa said, as his men took over from Jolinar's in escorting the Abydonians to new quarters. "Quetesh has shortened the time on our production schedule, and I hear that these new slaves have nearly untested strength."

Jolinar nodded. "There has been much to do on Dorieth, but I do not doubt that you will have much more to push."

"Weak slaves are quickly culled from arms production," the Jaffa answered with almost a shrug. "And the strong learn quickly that quality is necessary."

Their theories were quietly proven. Jolinar nodded. "I did not expect this transfer; the ways of our lord are truly beyond our comprehension."

"Indeed, but not in this area," said the Jaffa, with slight reservation. "It is necessary to any rational eye. With many of Ba'al's worlds taken, and their chappa'ais buried, she need only arm a swift and secret army to use them as foundation for an attack against Ba'al himself."

"Swift and secret?" Jolinar asked, frowning.

"That is the development we have been producing," the Jaffa said, nodding. "If our imitation is correct, Ba'al will know no more than that the Tok'ra have singled him out."

"Tok'ra?" Jolinar said, almost too surprised for the role.

The Jaffa looked uncomfortable at that idea, but he hid it. "As our lord wishes," he said, clearly not favoring stooping this low.

_~That's her plan?~_

_*Could it be that she still requires revenge? I cannot comprehend this...*_

After a pause of reflection, Jolinar saluted the Jaffa and left for the gate again. Sam had a moment's worry for the Abydonians, but there was absolutely nothing to be done even if there was any danger. Which Jolinar would bet against, and her odds weren't too long, Sam supposed. But that wasn't the matter at hand.

_~What do you mean revenge?~_

_*Quetesh holds grudges for decades, waiting for her time. I thought we were settled, but it seems she was keeping time for the proper plan to insert her revenge plot into. If she can pull off a massive stealth strike, it might indeed convince Ba'al that the Tok'ra attacked. Which is dangerous to more than our mission.*_

Sam didn't need Jolinar to spell it out after a moment's thought. _~The Tok'ra appear as a much bigger threat.~_

_*Which is entirely against our point. It becomes more and more of paramount importance to stop Quetesh before she gets too far.*_

Returning to Dorieth, they spared some more thoughts to the restructured organization. Things were still well, and they could spend a few moments thinking back to Sha're. They would need to stay here another day and a half at least, but the routine of this planet worked more in their favor every day. The time required to adapt a ship, if possible, would be theirs for the taking.

ooooooo

Daniel received a call the next day from Jean Miller. She and Caleb were in a San Diego hotel for the conference, and she was willing to hear his strange request. All he had to do was be there by the next day.

He didn't even need to talk to Hammond; it had been a while since Daniel had taken leave, and this was a prime opportunity. After a quick note to his team explaining his vacation, he realized that were it not for the SGC, he really had no ties in the world. It was equally frightening and comforting.

He decided against driving, taking a plane instead. There was a feeling that he was inclined to give weight, that this would be a complicated meeting.

By the time he arrived in San Diego, it was time for supper, and he treated himself to a nice one. He booked a cheap hotel, and settled down for the night after checking over his information one last time.

The morning came with much more ease than he was used to in Colorado, and he called to make sure he was still welcome to stop by the Millers' current room. The last time he'd done this, it was with an old friend; now it was a friend of a friend, if he could even say that.

But the moment Mrs. Miller opened the door, in a brown broomstick skirt and soft blouse, he smiled to himself. These were not Mckays. He could understand these people. He extended his hand with an open smile. "Jean Miller? I'm Dr. Daniel Jackson, I'm the one who called."

"Come in," she said, curiosity and slight suspicion mingling with her hospitality. Jean Miller wasn't tall, but she was neatly built and had a fair face, not too much like Rodney's. "I hope you understand, Dr. Jackson, but your visit is very odd to me and my husband. We're not certain this isn't some bait-and-switch."

He walked in, noticing the modest arrangements.

"Have a seat," said Caleb Miller, pointing to a comfortable chair in the main area of the hotel room. He looked to be tall and lanky, but relaxed in his own skin. His wife, despite her clothing, had a more neurotic air.

Daniel held his file in one hand, taking a seat and adjusting his glasses with the other. "Well, I can't promise that this won't be a strange conversation," he opened with, resting the file on his lap. "But I can promise you—I had it delivered to me once, and it's worth listening all the way through."

"Well, you're a fringe civilian vouching for the government...that gives you some bonus points in our books," said Caleb with a friendly grin.

Jean gave him a slight look, but Daniel felt that she wanted to be open. He nodded once to himself, and prepared his opening words.

ooooooo

Sam and Jolinar once again made their departure from Dorieth, and it was growing simpler with every time. Relaying the even more worrying prospects of Quetesh's plan to the Council took some time, but their conclusion was the same; as fast as possible, Quetesh needed to be stopped.

As they broke up, Jolinar approached Garshaw. "Garshaw," she said, bowing her head slightly. "I have a request to make apart from our mission."

"Yes?" Garshaw asked.

Jolinar read her face, thought she looked in good humor. "It is about Sha're and her child."

Garshaw nodded, not showing any emotion.

"She is unhappy, and wishes to be returned to her husband on Earth," Jolinar explained. "If it is possible, Samantha and I wish to take her there in a cloaked ship. There is no defense that could detect us, and we would only make the attempt if the hyperdrive were updated to make the journey a matter of hours."

Garshaw frowned. "No defense at all?"

Jolinar gave Sam one last chance, but Sam was firm on this. Garshaw didn't need to know the remotest possibilities. "None. It would be secure, would give Sha're a place where she belonged, and she may even serve as a messenger of the good will of the Tok'ra."

"You have thought about this for some time, I see," said Garshaw, eyeing Jolinar and speaking carefully. "You must also have considered just how much time you may spend in this endeavor."

"We will not take risks," Jolinar assured her. Sam wondered if only a few weeks before, she would have damned the risks.

"Then yes, you may do so," Garshaw said after a moment. She turned to leave, as Jolinar had nothing else to say, then paused and looked back. "I am glad that you are dealing with your loose ends," she said. And then she was gone.

Jolinar didn't stop to think about that, and Sam didn't care to do so either. They needed to talk to Anise as soon as possible, to get Sha're's return into motion, and all the effort and time that might take. As always, there was no time to waste for reflection or long consideration.

—

**Author's Notes:** Next chapter should be up Friday, or Saturday at latest, and then it's back to our normal 5-day schedule. I won't have time to answer to all the comments individually, but other than that everything should be back to normal. Thank you for your patience and feedback!

One note, just to clarify an issue that I don't think has been addressed in the story in a while...Sam and the Tok'ra are completely cut off from the SGC. They have no idea where SG teams will be, and as Abydos is uninhabited now, the gate is the only way to contact Earth. If Sam knew the addresses to Cimmeria and Land of Light, she could try there, but I see no reason why she should know them. The only reason she knew Abydos' address was because it was important for them all to know at the beginning of the series, as the only gate address they had.


	50. Brainstorming

**Chapter 49 - Brainstorm**

Sam was only slightly less surprised than Jolinar when Anise was ready to help. Freya spoke first, granted, but it was Anise as usual who became obsessed with the idea. It became clear from the start that there would have to be a new dynamic.

"You once dealt with technology like this?" Anise asked, as they leaned over the screen with hyperdrive schematics.

"Not like this, but I think I have the capacity to learn," said Sam, surprised at the question.

"Then try to learn quickly, because it will be essential to achieving any of this in the time frame you require," said Anise. "Now, to the task."

Jolinar took a back seat, as she had expected to do, and Sam leapt in with both feet. Finally, after all this time, she was getting something meaty and scientific. She knew almost nothing about Goa'uld technology, but just seeing the details made it all so much clearer. Anise was swift and blunt with her comments, but that only helped Sam figure out where she was making basic errors, and after a few hours she didn't even feel frustrated.

At least, not about Anise. What was an issue, she realized, was what she and Jolinar were asking. Al'kesh and hataks had cloaking devices, but the average tel'tac did not. And the Tok'ra might let Jolinar take the tel'tac from their last mission, but the al'kesh was too valuable for such a mission. Also, its hyperdrive would be more difficult to adapt. Tel'tacs, though, did not come with cloaking devices, and Anise had no simple way to adapt one.

"In the end, it is not what you would call a cloak," she explained, showing Sam the scientific formulas scrolling page after page.

"Chameleon device, yeah, I think I get that," said Sam, nodding and taking in all that she saw. "You can program the crystal for that?"

"It's possible," said Anise, nodding.

_*She always says that,* _cautioned Jolinar, even though she wanted this to work more than Anise.

But before any of it mattered, they needed to conquer the issue of the hyperdrive. And that programming was much more familiar to Sam. Anise pulled up the reconnaissance and research that Tok'ra operatives had obtained from infiltrating upgraded vessels, and over a hot cup of hareshna Sam found herself brainstorming. It felt too good to be using science again, and even better to feel that Jolinar's awe was slowly becoming appreciative. There was hope for the symbiote yet, Sam thought half playfully.

ooooooo

The hotel room felt open, the sun shining through the bay window and giving the light-colored furniture and walls a bright feeling. It was good for a conversation that was supposed to be as friendly as possible.

"Okay, first of all?" Jean said, hands loosely clasped in her lap as she broke the pause after Daniel's self-introduction. "You want me to sign a confidentiality agreement? Not happening."

"Can I ask why?" Daniel answered, not at all surprised.

"Well, that should be obvious, right?" she answered, with a laugh that wasn't mirthful. "I mean, who can approve of the government appropriating science through secrecy? What ever happened to the free exchange of ideas?"

"It's not gone," Daniel assured, nodding. "That's not the point of the program I represent; the secrecy is not for the science, but for honest safety precautions. If it can be done, the science involved is made open to the public."

Jean leaned forward a little, resting one hand on her knee. "So what, the government just takes the rights of the scientists away? What about copyright and intellectual property?"

"Believe me, you're not the first to ask," said Daniel, hoping his open look would keep this from devolving into a pointless debate. "I mean, the things I've helped the program discover? I'd give anything to publish papers on it, if it could be safely done. But it's not, and you'll see that once you understand it all. This isn't your normal situation. It's not a brain trust."

Jean's eyebrows were skeptically aligned. "Really?"

"Well, I suppose it is, technically," Daniel backpedaled a little, readjusting himself in the chair.

"Yes, I figured that out when your people contacted me at first," Jean answered, sitting back up and crossing her arms loosely across her chest.

Daniel happened to note that Caleb, legs crossed in an easy position as he leaned back against his chair, was relaxed and unaffected. He looked interested, too, which surprised Daniel when he seemed to have nothing he wanted to offer to the conversation.

"So why do I want to help the government, not to mention the U.S. Military, pray tell?" Jean asked. "Or for that matter, why do you?"

"Well, that is the question," Daniel said, slowly, with a nod to himself. "I guess—I guess I just realize that this world isn't perfect, and we need to take the chances we can. This program was and is the chance in a lifetime, and bureaucracy and politics don't change that." He finished, and waited for her reaction.

"Hmm," was all Jean said in answer. "Do you want a drink?"

Daniel blinked. "Uh, sure, that'd be great."

As Caleb rose to get something from the mini-fridge, Daniel glanced over his notes. His useless notes. This was by far the most interesting conversation he never thought he'd have.

ooooooo

Hours had ticked past, full of the nitty gritty and draft after draft of essential planning. Sam found herself in a virtual course of hyperdrive lessons, and could only imagine the papers on the desks if the Tok'ra didn't have such great hologram technology. Soon, Sam was inundated with the power requirements, the equations for naquadah efficiency, and higher-level astrophysics that she hadn't had to touch in a while. It was exhilarating.

Anise seemed overjoyed to finally have an excuse to get to work on this. The Tok'ra didn't use hyperdrive often enough to make it a high priority, and Sam dragged Jolinar into sympathizing with a theoretical scientist in a society focused on practicality.

The virtual simulations ended in massive failure early on in the day. Speed, followed by massive crashes in hyperspace, with the ship's debris projected even to the point where it was shown how far it would spread after the sudden and unplanned stop. Even worse were the fits and spurts, which Anise didn't have to remind Sam might stop them too near a sun, or any other dangerous part of space, if they couldn't restart it in time.

"Is there any way to install a larger buffer on the energy transfer?" Sam asked, manipulating the code on the simulator with one hand and gesturing with the other while she spoke.

"Do you not think that the buffer was built at the greatest capacity to begin with?" Anise asked, eyebrow risen with a hint of disdain.

"Maybe—I don't know, they could have cut corners on production," Sam answered.

Anise made a small hmming noise, and reran the simulation.

"I wasn't finished," Sam said, as the program switched screens.

"Always test before you get that far, in case you're on the wrong track," Anise advised flatly. Then, as the results ran before their eyes, "No, you're doing fine."

ooooooo

"Thank you," said Daniel, as Caleb handed him a glass of ice water. While the English major looked completely at ease still, Jean's lips were pursed and her hands fidgeted. This was pushing all her buttons, Daniel could see, and his appearance probably didn't help.

"You know, this is all just a bit too under the radar," she said, gesturing with her hand towards Daniel. "It sounds like—like a cult or something, not like good science at all."

Daniel took a sip of the water, then set down the cup and leaned forward, elbows on knees. He wasn't supposed to let it go like this, but if it worked, Daniel knew he wouldn't be asked questions—and if it didn't work, no one would care anyway. "Mrs. Miller," he said, looking her in the eye. "I'm only working for the government and the military technically. I'm a civilian consultant, and as such, I really shouldn't be talking to you like an official."

Jean's eyebrows rose slightly and fell in a single movement. "Well, that's better," she said honestly, emphasizing the last word. "And?"

"And, I'm not here on their request," Daniel said. He took a deep breath. "You know how sometimes you find things, choices maybe, that don't make sense when you state them without context? That no one can understand with just a cursory knowledge? Well, this is one of those things, and I can't help that. One of my colleagues asked me to talk to you, not because anyone wants to steal your talents, but because she wants to work with you. And seeing the research she pulled up, I'm impressed too. We have some of the best minds working together on this program, and yes, there's a lot of innovation that isn't immediately made public. But it's not a conspiracy to steal ideas."

He sat back up, closing the file in his lap and placing it on the coffee table in between their chairs. "I can't really say this, but there's nowhere else in the world that you can find an opportunity like this. The possibilities...they're beyond anyone's dreams. And if you sign the papers now, I do have the evidence to show you that it won't be a mistake. You can always refuse and go on with your life, as long as you don't say anything about it. But I don't think you'll be able to."

He pushed the file over to her side. "All I'm asking, Mrs. Miller, is that you don't prejudge this based on the outer package."

Jean looked back at him, waved hair pulled back in a loose bun, leaving her face easy to read. "You're not a good liar, Dr. Jackson," she said.

"I'm not lying, I promise," Daniel said.

"No, I know," she answered, a slight chuckle in her voice. "That's what I meant. You really do think like this? Which means you're either brainwashed, or telling the truth."

"Or both," Daniel said with a shrug, for accuracy's sake.

Jean picked up the file, opening it and grimacing at the confidentiality agreement's first page. She glanced over to Caleb, who nodded and gave her a look that Daniel wasn't qualified to read. "So, if I ever sign this, all I have to do is call you and you'll explain everything?" she asked Daniel skeptically.

"Whenever you're ready," said Daniel. When she didn't say anything, he rose. "Well, I don't want to take any more of your time."

"Oh no, it's fine," Jean said politely, as she and Caleb rose. "You probably figured out, but I'm a tough sell on everything. It's nothing personal."

"I hoped it wasn't," said Daniel with a smile.

"I'll think about this," Jean said, nodding to the file as she opened the door for him. Holding the door open, she offered her free hand. "It was nice to meet you, Dr. Jackson."

"And you too," Daniel answered honestly.

He didn't notice when the door closed behind him; he was thinking too much about the visit. And despite this little side-trip, an airplane flight back to work in Colorado beckoned for him.

ooooooo

It was late night before they had a working code, and Sam and Jolinar watched with interest as Anise brought in the blank crystals for coding. They didn't seem like sturdy technology, and never had, to Sam, and the process seemed overly delicate. Even though Jolinar knew for a fact of their sturdiness, it was still a task that looked fragile.

If all went well, they could test out these crystals physically tomorrow, and then get straight to work on the chameleon device. Sam was anxious for the actual trial, despite Jolinar's assurances that such updates were not irregular occurrences. Even more important, the speed so far boded well for getting this done in a matter of days.

Lantash and Martouf were back from their mission, and Sam let her and Jolinar take a break after they finished the first part of this plan.

"When this is done," Lantash said as they prepared for a goodnight kiss before departing to mutual sleep, "I will expect a proper farewell before your extended mission."

Jolinar, noting with appreciation the use of 'when' instead of 'if', leaned in with a less intellectual appreciation. "Of course."

Despite all the thoughts in Sam's head, she and Jolinar shared no dreams, and woke with fresh minds the next morning. Jolinar was surprised at how little she chafed at this way of spending their time, even though this barrage of knowledge was for a distinct purpose that she cared about. She let Sam know distinctly that she wasn't merely tolerating it, that Sam should feel free to do whatever was necessary to heal the rift between Sha're and Daniel. It was no longer a matter of guilt, a change that neither of them expected, but something more invigorating. It felt good; it felt helpful.

Anise ran the first test before Sam and Jolinar arrived, and then Freya came forward. Her favorite part of these things was the assembly, and so she smiled at Sam and Jolinar, and together they gated to the planet where the tel'tac remained in orbit.

Sam wasn't completely comfortable with the crystal systems at this point, and though Jolinar didn't know much more she was at least fully at ease with how all the manual controls worked.

"There are two ways to do this," said Freya, opening up the center panel and removing the old crystals. "The safest way would be to test each step, starting the system and then preparing the hyperdrive without jumping. But you won't have that time on your mission."

"Can we not test it all at once?" Jolinar asked, arms loosely crossed over her chest as she watched Freya.

"Those are the options," said Freya. "Are you willing to risk it? I can stay here and analyze the tests, but if you take the ship out for a jump, I cannot be there. If all goes well, you will be fine. But if there's any error, you may be lost to some degree."

"Which might be the case anyway, even after your tests," said Jolinar. "We don't have time for that."

"You are surprisingly open to my hopes," said Freya with a small smile. "Then I will just check the system once this is done, and then we will run the first test. I will need a full report, though, whatever the outcome."

"Samantha will be taking note," said Jolinar with a nod.

And so Sam was, and also of how Freya installed the new crystals. Once Freya dealt with the first panel, Sam took control for a minute to look at the structure, thinking of all that she now knew of the inner workings. It was starting to feel more real, less about pushing in pieces that almost magically worked, and more about the underlying and very real programming that merely had a simple manual interface.

Freya frowned, and put the last crystal in place. With a slight nod to Sam, they made their way up to the bridge. Freya started the system with the usual hum, and the ship softly vibrated, a slight rattle almost out of hearing.

_~Well, it didn't explode,~ _Sam said to Jolinar, with the amused joy of success.

"This is where you continue," said Freya, eyes lit as she reluctantly took her hands from the control. "I will wait on the planet for an hour."

Jolinar snorted voicelessly. "We will be back within minutes."

Freya nodded, and exited the ship after one last look at the crystals. Jolinar took her seat in the pilot's chair, placing her hands on the rounded steering module. It glowed red, buzzing lightly beneath her fingers.

_*Are you ready to take note?*_

_~Ready as ever. Let's take it for a test run.~_

Jolinar chose near coordinates, inputting the data. As the hyperdrive wound up to open a window, Sam kept track of the diagnostic numbers playing out in Goa'uld on the HUD. Her gaze joined Jolinar as the symbiote glanced out the window, punching the button and watching the blue-green cloud prepare to engulf them. A slight jerk, and then they were in hyperspace.

Jolinar's eyes flicked back to the screen, and it could have been either one who sparked the leap in their heartbeat, because the speed they were seeing was exactly as planned. Only for a few seconds, and then the ship wobbled and the numbers danced up and down.

_~Uh oh.~_

_*Not yet.*_

Jolinar didn't touch anything, and after a slight shake, the numbers picked back up. Jolinar hmmed to herself in satisfaction, and she and Sam continued to watch. The shaking of the ship and the flickering of the hyperdrive continued at intervals of a few minutes, before they finally dropped out, with a rough shake of the ship. Jolinar's brow furrowed for a second, but she ran a diagnostic and found no apparent damage, not even slightly so.

_*It will function,* _she said.

Sam agreed silently, feeling like she wanted to pat the ship like an old rusty truck. It wouldn't fail them, even if it might not be up to the beating of a normal Tok'ra mission. This would just be in and out, less than a day.

Jolinar had them back in hyperspace before any further thoughts came to Sam, and they came out right above the planet where Anise and Freya waited, standing by the gate.

"As good as your word, and more or less intact," said Anise dryly, as soon as Jolinar stepped out. "I would say that I am surprised, but given your stubbornness on this issue, I am not."

"Your hasty assembly performed well," said Jolinar, sidestepping the words that almost dared to be seen as baiting. "Some instability, but nothing worrying."

Anise eyed her closely, but with no true suspicion. "Hmm," she said. "Then you will go ahead with it, even unfinished?"

"There are only three days left before I must begin my mission," said Jolinar. "And I do not wish to spend my last day carrying out this trip."

"Then we will focus on the cloaking device immediately," answered Anise readily. "I believe it is possible to manage something within the day, looking at these calculations. Perhaps Samantha should become familiar with them before we get to work in earnest?" She handed the screen she carried to Sam, who took control at the comment.

The hyperdrive was pushed out of Sam's mind by the time the wormhole brought them back to the Tok'ra home-world.

ooooooo

The visit to the Millers in San Diego had been rather refreshing for Daniel, even though it was a business trip. He came back to the SGC with a sort of renewed fervor, and worked just a little later than usual, even though his colleagues had kept up with the work and not left a backlog. Not that that would have convinced Jack, though, who Daniel didn't have to talk to to guess that he thought it was all an excuse.

With that in mind, it surprised Daniel to walk to an upper level late on day and see Jack in—well, it might be his office, but Daniel didn't think Jack knew if or where he had one of those.

"Hey," he called, pausing, hands in his pockets. "You're—late." It was the only word he could say that didn't seem to imply something vaguely insulting.

"Had a long call," said Jack, with a tired grimace that might have been to stave off a yawn. He looked at Daniel, still standing. "Sara," he admitted.

"That's nice," said Daniel, surprised. He stayed for a second longer, until Jack started walking. "I didn't realize you were in touch."

"We weren't," said Jack in a simple tone that just screamed of complexities.

"I guess she has clearance now, of some kind," Daniel mused, knowing Jack wouldn't just talk. He'd barely met Jack's ex-wife, but she had seemed a good fit; tough and probably a bit snappy, but with a soft side that was obvious within a few minutes of seeing her. And overall, touched with that dark sorrow that Daniel hoped he'd never understand.

Jack, walking alongside Daniel with slow steps, turned his head to give him a sharp glance.

Daniel's eyes widened, and he hoped he hadn't crossed the line. Jack's look wasn't angry, but it had a piercing quality that almost seemed to stem from discomfort. But then it faded into the near-emptiness of matter-of-fact.

"She said she only wanted to know if I wanted to tell her," said Jack. "I decided I did."

Daniel nodded. "And?"

"You know, I've had worse conversations about the Stargate," Jack said, his tone lightening, becoming intentionally lacking in seriousness.

"I can imagine," Daniel said, chuckling. "So is she going to come and see it for herself, or does she take your word for it?"

Jack sighed and half-shrugged.

They parted company a couple steps later, but Daniel was thinking about the conversation with Millers again, and the one with Dr. Jordan before that. He wondered if it was easier for him, a fringe scientist in anyone's definition anyway, and deeply in love with his work here. And he wondered sometimes why Jack stuck around, why he let the world think him a good soldier gone off the deep end. Then again, maybe he hadn't realized that those would be the consequences until it was too late, and he wanted his team because they knew otherwise. Maybe that was why he had reached out to Sara, to have one other person out there who knew.

Frustratingly, Daniel couldn't ask these questions, or rather he could ask them but couldn't expect good answers. He shrugged, though, thinking that if he knew Jack long enough, one day he wouldn't need to ask.

ooooooo

By the end of the next day, Sam and Anise were not on speaking terms. They had both worked late into the evening, with Freya occasionally coming out for reasons that Sam didn't understand in the moment. Jolinar did not do likewise—she understood the concept behind what they were doing, but had no talent in dealing with the specifics.

But by the morning, Sam figured out that Anise really didn't like this kind of work. Taking risks, yes, but not accepting half-hearted work. Sam, though usually looking for perfection, saw no reason to get worked up about it here, when time was the issue. And so she kept making intuitive jumps, and Anise seemed confused about whether Sam was just ignorant or knowingly stopping halfway...and she wasn't being very polite about voicing her confusion.

As Jolinar's past started coloring Sam's current frustration, she decided to bite her tongue and just do the work. The chameleon device was not going to be ready in time, not in the way they had wanted from the beginning. It was too complex to work into the Goa'uld system as a loose program, and they didn't have time to consolidate it into a compact add-on. They might be able to add enough of it to be relatively functional, but the definition of "enough" hadn't been agreed on yet.

It was midday, and Jolinar was remembering how this time yesterday they had been exuberant about the hyperdrive they had installed. Sam felt a bit of a fluster, and Jolinar decided to attempt something more soothing than regretful. It was a well-intentioned failure, but Jolinar's good intentions were worth more to Sam than success, and so it did help a little.

Anise slammed her hand lightly down on the table, drawing Sam's gaze quickly. "If we do not take the time to finish the security procedures, there is no possible way that I can determine that this will be in working order!"

"Working order?" Sam asked, shaping the words carefully so as not to add any more emotion than necessary.

"Yes," Anise said back. "The entire purpose of this? To bring you to the planet unobserved?"

"No, I need more than that," Sam said.

"If you keep ignoring the security, the system is likely to waver indeterminately," Anise said. "And then I do not see the point."

"How long?" Sam asked simply.

"Two days," Anise answered back without hesitation.

"How long for just being reasonably sure that it won't short out on us?" Sam asked again.

"Reasonable is knowing for sure," Anise tossed back.

Sam tapped the edge of the table, looking across at the one person whose help she truly needed. "Can you work with me to get 90% by tomorrow?"

"That is a factual number, for what I told you was an indeterminate system," said Anise. "The only surety is with a complete security system written."

"Just get me close, and I'll take the chance, okay?" Sam said, looking Anise straight in the eye. "And don't act like you don't know what close means."

Anise looked like she was biting her tongue for a second, then swallowed slightly. "I agreed to this, did I not?"

"Yes, yes, you did," said Sam. Jolinar inwardly chuckled, and Sam put on a tight smile.

"It _may_ be possible," Anise finally said, and her fingers began putting rapid input into the device they were working with.

Sam breathed out, and they continued to work. Still not on speaking terms, not personally, but Sam wondered about when this was over. Jolinar wondered about how easy it would be to keep it only professional forever. They had a brief moment where they thought at the same time that easy was tempting, but not necessarily something they had good track record with.

As the flickers of the cloaking device lessened as the hours went on, they realized that this was coming together almost as planned. If that wasn't a good omen for their next, long, mission, then—well, Jolinar still didn't fully believe in omens, but it was easy to pretend with Sam.


	51. Satisfied

**Chapter 50 - Satisfied**

They hadn't dared to let Sha're know everything that was going on, couldn't build up her hopes. Larys was once again the go-between, and when she had asked through him, Sam and Jolinar were pleased to give a positive answer. The night they finished, and even Anise signed off on the additions, they sent word—"Tomorrow"

Sha're was the only reason they had to go to the infirmary now, as they rose early the next morning and went to see her. It had been a week since her desperate request, and it showed on her face. Shifu was still being a fussy child of not even two months, and Sha're had refused all help before now. Larys gave him a final check-up, and Sam and Jolinar watched fondly as she apologized and thanked Larys for all his help, giving him word to pass onto Dorin once she returned. Larys only smiled.

"Is everything ready?" Jolinar asked, as Sha're tucked Shifu into the makeshift sling that swung across her chest.

"I have nothing else," she said with a shrug, and it was both pathetic and joyous at once.

_*Has it only been two months?*_

_~I don't know, it feels like a year for me.~_

Jolinar did not say anything directly, but Sam felt that this was something that would change with time. Lots of time, maybe. Sam didn't think that far ahead.

"We have had the Council's permission for some time, so there is nothing to wait on," said Jolinar.

"Then please, let us go," said Sha're.

Jolinar, in an impulse that might have originated in Sam, put a hand to the back of Sha're's elbow as they walked towards the gate. Sam felt the pang as they realized that Sha're, one of the background constants of their Tok'ra relationship, would move on without them. They hadn't had much time together, given everything. Maybe that could be mended in the future; strangely, they would both strive for it.

Shifu burbled from inside the sling, pressed comfortably against Sha're's chest and drooling all down it. They were almost ready to ring up to the surface when Sha're started. "Oh!"

"What is it?" asked Jolinar, brow quickly furrowing.

"I have not seen Martouf or Lantash in many days," Sha're said with a worried frown. "Would you tell them that I look forward to a next meeting?"

Jolinar's face relaxed. "Of course. Did you give your farewells to Selmak?"

"Oh yes, we spoke only yesterday," said Sha're with a nod as Jolinar activated the rings. "Jolinar—I am sorry for this."

"What do you mean?" asked Jolinar, now walking across the sands of the home-world.

"For wanting to leave like this," Sha're said, looking up to her. "I know that I will regret my haste when it is all over, but though I cannot change my feelings, I want you to know that they are not permanent."

"We did not think so," said Jolinar, and smiled openly to her.

Shan'ak was standing as always, waiting. Jolinar gave him the address of the barren planet around which the upgraded tel'tac waited. The blue wormhole flushed open, and Sha're did not look back as she walked through with Sam and Jolinar. Another push of buttons, and then they were standing in the middle of the tel'tac.

"Even with the changes, it will still be a long journey," said Jolinar as she walked to the pilot's seat. "Please, take your ease."

Sam was nervous, suddenly doubting everything they had done as she realized that Sha're and Shifu were now counting on them.

_*Even if anything fails, it will only be an inconvenience,* _Jolinar assured. And Sam didn't bother looking behind that faulty logic.

ooooooo

Daniel momentarily had a little surprise as he heard that he was getting an international call.

"_Dr. Jackson?"_

But that voice he wouldn't forget. "Mrs. Miller," he answered, smiling a little at the recall.

"_Well, you beat me. Caleb and I signed the papers; we at least want to know more."_

"Caleb too, really," said Daniel with a blink. That hadn't been in the plan.

"_I'm not going to try to keep secrets from him, not even for your military,"_ Jean's tone was amused but stubborn.

"No, that makes sense," said Daniel.

"_So, aren't you going to use your evidence to convince me further?"_

Daniel smiled to himself. "Not that I wouldn't love to reward your interest, but this isn't—well, let's just say that I think it would be better for both of us if you were here when I had this conversation."

"_In Colorado." _Her tone was firmly dry.

"You can still say no, but I don't think you'll forgive yourself if you don't do otherwise," said Daniel, in his most persuasive tones. He'd gotten this far, now he was invested.

"_You're a strange salesman, playing hard to get like that," _Jean answered. _"Why again should I do that?"_

"Time of a lifetime, Mrs. Miller. Don't ever forget that," said Daniel.

He heard her sigh. _"I'll get back to you later."_

"Hope to see you soon," Daniel finished. "Oh, and Mrs. Miller? Thank you for giving me a chance."

"_You're welcome, but we'll see, you know."_

"I do," said Daniel, nodding even though she couldn't see. The phone disconnected, and he felt satisfied.

ooooooo

Sam watched all the controls with careful study as they flew through hyperspace. Sha're was mostly quiet, bouncing Shifu and humming to him when he moaned and fussed, but not holding herself as one desperate. Jolinar found calm through marking each change in the diagnostics that Anise had made sure were front and center. An addition here, a rise there, a dissipation here and there, the actions meant nothing but held their attention.

Hours later, Shifu hiccouphed through a tear-stained face as he slept, and Sha're's eyes were wearily shut as well, her head leaned back against the chair. Jolinar saw the beginnings of wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, and suddenly Sam was overwhelmed with the grief for short lives. Even if Sha're would be revived by being where she belonged, it would not be enough. Jolinar kept people far away from her because of this, but not this time, and it would hurt.

Only a few hours remained until the ship would drop out of hyperspace and immediately, hopefully, cloak. Sam joined Jolinar and watched the numbers rise and fall in miniscule increments, willing them to stay constant for as long as was necessary.

As the time grew less, Jolinar started running over the plan in her head. Sam started visualizing Earth, the SGC, and Jolinar started working out just how she could get to the surface most quickly. There was a moment when Jolinar wondered if she would be able to rely on daylight, and Sam noticed for the first time that her internal clock was not anywhere near set on her home-planet. She couldn't have guessed what time it was on Earth, even if her life depended on it.

The minutes started to count down until it was time, and Sha're woke, refreshed and ready as she could be. She held Shifu cradled in the sling, his breaths no longer shaky from fussy tears. She rocked a little in the seat, and no one spoke, because it would be best if he stayed asleep.

"Sa'm," Sha're finally said in a voice low enough to be termed a whisper.

Sam turned from the screen, switching with Jolinar almost with a blink.

"I know that I asked for this, but could you please tell me what you expect," Sha're said, one hand curved beneath Shifu and the other resting gently on his chest. "What will happen to us?"

Sam swallowed, thinking back. "They won't stun you with Shifu, I'm positive," she said, finding that the concepts of Earth security were a bit rusty. "But there will be guards. With guns. They'll escort you to a holding cell, most likely, and then you'll be searched for any dangerous items. But then Janet will run an MRI, and after that, I can't imagine that they wouldn't believe you." Even Jolinar couldn't go so far as to imagine that.

Sha're nodded, closing her eyes for a second. "Will Shifu be tested again?"

Sam bit her lip. "I don't know, Sha're. But they're good people, even if they're paranoid, and Daniel will be there for you. I know it won't matter to him what the danger might be; all he ever wanted was to have you back."

"I am not truly worried, Sa'm," Sha're said with a small smile. "I am just thinking and preparing."

Jolinar's idea of thinking was a little more to the point, less speculative about emotions, and Sam decided to retreat to it when Sha're had no more words. She was taking Sha're to Sam's home, and though Jolinar strove to keep emotions free of the plan—any moment might bring back those hopes and dreams of long ago. Over three months, and it felt like so much longer.

"Sa'm?"

She looked up and saw a frown on Sha're's face.

"I will vouch for you, do you understand?" Sha're said, looking her in the eye. "If I have any weight at all, be it only with Daniel, I will not forget the reason that I was able to return."

"If we succeed at all," Sam said, letting the words slip before realizing what they were and biting her lip. "No, we'll succeed at this, I know. It's just—who knows what will happen afterwards."

_*Fifteen minutes,* _said Jolinar, still marking the time.

"Okay, Sha're, we need to get ready," said Sa'm, taking one last look at the numbers on the screen. "As soon as we drop out of hyperspace, Jolinar is going to fly us right down to the SGC itself. We're going to ring you and Shifu right outside the above-ground entrance, okay?"

Sha're nodded, as understanding as she could be.

"I don't know how long it will take, and Jolinar and I will need to be adjusting things the whole way, so you have to be ready before it happens," said Sam. "Can you do that?"

Sha're nodded, swallowing.

Sam stood up, walked to the back of the tel'tac, and waited for Sha're to rise. Shifu still slept, but fitfully now, and Sha're bobbed back and forth as Sam positioned her right in the center of the rings. She looked up at Sam, brown eyes wide and excited.

"Thank you, Sa'm," she said brokenly, her smile nervous and twisted.

Sam almost bit her lip, but then Jolinar pushed her without words, and she reached out to give Sha're a warm hug. "You be safe, okay?"

Sha're laughed, and wiped at the corner of one eye. "And you as well, both of you."

As Jolinar encouraged the sentimental mood, Sam put out one hand to gently squeeze Shifu's.

"Do you have any words for—" Sha're broke off, leaving the words to be spoken in her eyes.

Jolinar held back, not making a move. Sam took a breath, about to say something. Then she looked Sha're in the eye, and sighed, ruffling Shifu's fuzzy dark hair one last time. "Tell them what you saw," she said quietly.

Sha're nodded, bowing her head a little.

The ship beeped to remind them that time was drawing short. Sam let Jolinar take over, and started to embrace the rush of adrenaline starting to course through them. All the planning, all the waiting, for this one moment. Sam didn't doubt that it would work, but even so, the slight gamble gave her an exhilarating feeling.

At last, the timer finally ran down. Jolinar stretched her hands, ran the plan through her mind in lightning fast pictures, and then placed her hands on the controls. Stars replaced the blue-purple streaks, and suddenly Sam saw it. Earth. They were between it and the sun, and she saw her home country lit perfectly by its light. Jolinar flicked her fingers, and Sam watched the shimmer of the cloak envelop them. So far so good.

Jolinar started diving towards the planet. She knew exactly what velocity and angle, not least from the safeguards on the ship, but also with Sam's implicit understanding of flight and this planet in particular. The United States started looming up toward them in a matter of minutes. Sam suddenly worried what the atmosphere might do to them.

ooooooo

Daniel took his lunch alone as usual, and this time he didn't even know where his teammates were. Well, except that Jack and Dixon were due back later from some mission. There were a few other people in the lunchroom, but it was a quiet day at the SGC. Even though their schedule was still active, it wasn't busy like it had been. For all the wonders they were supposed to be exploring, it felt like the humdrum of old reality.

And that reminded him, he should probably get permission for the Millers to get a tour, once they showed up. Hammond knew nothing of the situation yet. He rose, taking his pita sandwich in one hand and his empty coffee mug in the other.

Just a couple steps down the corridor, though, and paperwork vanished from his mind as he saw Mckay dart down a hall. Even in crises, the man didn't dart. Picking up his pace, Daniel followed him.

"What is it?" he called, as Mckay turned to enter a lab. Daniel heard the sounds of excited chatters from within.

"Jackson?" Mckay asked, turning back for a second and giving time for Daniel to catch up the last few steps, before turning into the room.

"Something up?" Daniel asked, curious.

"Oh, something's up," said Dr. Felger, as Daniel and Mckay walked into the lab. It was the satellite monitors stationed in orbit around Earth, sending information to the computers in here to be analyzed.

"You know, just when you think you have to go out of our system to find anything interesting..." said Dr. Lee.

"Move over," said Mckay, taking a seat by one of the screens. "There was a strange anomaly near the Sun about ten minutes ago," he said, in the general direction of Daniel.

Daniel's eyebrows perked up, and he moved to look over Mckay's shoulder as he started to zoom in on the footage. "Oh."

"And then something in the atmosphere, that we couldn't quite place," said Mckay, "a few minutes after that."

"Does the general know?" Daniel asked, a little more worried than curious for the moment.

"Yes, yes," said Mckay, shaking his good hand at Daniel. "Now look, look at this!"

"My god," Lee breathed out, eyes like saucers, as the information Mckay was pulling from the image fed into his monitor.

Daniel squinted a little, not seeing more than a fuzzy bit on the screen. "Is it—something?

Mckay's fingers paused over the keyboard. "No, I'm playing around with a figment of my imagination."

Daniel wasn't in the mood to respond to his, admittedly somewhat deserved, snark.

"Okay, this is not helping much," muttered Mckay as he tried to enhance the image.

"Oh!" exclaimed Felger from a different computer. "Rodney, Rodney, look! One of the security feeds from outside the SGC picked up a flash of something in the sky that immediately vanished."

"What the..." Mckay trailed off, frowning. He pushed his chair to the right, Felger quickly getting out of his way as Mckay looked at the new screen. "Good god—someone ring the alarm, now!"

Daniel didn't know who did it, but he had other things on his mind. Because he might not discern fuzz well, but that outline was Goa'uld if he ever saw one, and his heart started picking up to a rapid pace. His hand was on the phone before he knew it. "Get me Hammond," he insisted.

ooooooo

_~Damn!~ _swore Sam, speaking for them both. They were a couple miles off, but that was it.

Jolinar had the cloak back in a matter of seconds, and Sha're didn't seem to notice from where she stood, waiting. Gritting her teeth for a second, Jolinar curved a tight angle with the ship, dipping down closer and closer to the mountain. Sam's memories were all that she needed, and they were so close.

"Are you ready?" Jolinar called back, as the mountain leered up at them. Sam might have flinched at the speed, but she could feel every decision Jolinar was making, and she trusted in her and this ship both.

"Good fortune to you!" called Sha're, bracing herself as Jolinar cast a quick glance back.

They paid Shifu's cry upon waking no attention. Jolinar's fingers flicked at the steering device, and the invisible ship swung around and suddenly hovered. Lowering it just a little more, Sam saw the sun-lit outer entrance of Cheyenne Mountain through the windshield.

A couple seconds more, and then Jolinar's finger was on the button. "Good fortune to you, Sha're," she called back.

Sha're and Shifu were gone in a flash of light. There was no time, even if they had needed it. Jolinar's hands were firmly at the controls again, and they were flying high in the sky. The cloak flickered again, but if there had been any defense it would have been activated by now, and the only thing they could do was get out of range.

The atmosphere did away with the cloak altogether, and before the thrill of success could start rising in them, the cloud of hyperspace sucked them in. Sam had kept her word to Sha're, and now she and Jolinar were on their way home.

ooooooo

Daniel and Mckay had run down to the control room as soon as Hammond heard the news. Marines were already being sent up to the surface, and everyone was preparing for the worst. But before they saw what was on screen, suddenly the marine commander's radio fed through the loudspeaker.

"_You've got to be kidding me!"_

Daniel looked down at the screen, and the picture sunk into his head at the same moment as the muffled words over the radio. _"Hold your fire!"_ For Sha're.

"Dear god in heaven," murmured Hammond, as they all stared at the footage.

"_Sir?"_ They needed an order up there.

"Hold your fire," Hammond said. "But keep your weapons trained."

"Is this some kind of trap?" Mckay wondered, breathless with the excitement and exertion to get up here.

"_Take this and explain yourself," _said the marine commander, and Daniel watched him toss a radio to Sha're.

Sha're. His wife. And what was that in her arms? How was he seeing her? She took the radio and spoke into it. He saw her mouth move, and heard her voice crackle over the loudspeaker. _"Is my Dan'yel there? And Sa'm's general?"_

"Sha're?" Daniel asked, impulsively reaching for the radio himself.

"_Dan'yel." _Her voice came to life. _"Dan'yel, you may tell them that I come in peace. Everything will be explained, I promise you. I have no weapons. I carry only this child. There is no danger, I promise. The ship is gone."_

"Are we supposed to trust her?" Hammond asked.

"What possible attack would use this plan?" asked Mckay, eyebrows firmly skeptical. "We'd be dead if this was a distraction."

"Sir, remember the last time we saw her," Daniel said, his mind overwhelmed but still able to think of something. "Sam—and Jolinar—but maybe we were wrong."

Hammond frowned. "Dr. Jackson, I don't think even you know what point you're trying to make at the moment. But either way, this is not taking place under these circumstances." He leaned over the intercom. "Bring her down, but watch her carefully."

Mckay, now that there was no interesting anomaly nor a frightening Goa'uld attack, was emotionally non-descript. He did, however, follow Daniel as he headed for the elevator where they would be bringing Sha're.

Daniel didn't know what he thought, or was supposed to think, or anything. His wife was here. Here. She sounded like herself, carried a child in her arms, and had come in a manner almost believably like this strange Sam that he hadn't been thinking about. What was going on and what would happen, he didn't know, but he doubted anyone else did either.

They stood waiting, even more marines with weapons at the ready. The elevator doors opened, and Daniel was hit with the image before him. Her hair curled just the same way, her face curving like he remembered, eyes bright, even if he could see the worn look of her skin. And that noise—the sound of a babe from the sling in her arms. She was in a simple brown robe, and with the white cloth sling added he couldn't see any possible trap.

"Dan'yel," she whispered, looking just as overcome as he.

"Sha're," he answered, wishing with all his might to run forward past the guns.

"I'm sorry, but we need to search her first and foremost," said Hammond.

Sha're nodded, standing still while the marines hesitantly gave her a once over. Daniel was itching, aching, to say or do something. He saw Mckay standing next to him, arms crossed loosely, looking vaguely curious.

"No weapons that we can tell, sir," the marine commander said. "She's clean, unless there's something more sinister."

"Why would I bring my child if I was only to trap you?" Sha're asked, looking from Daniel to Hammond.

"Your child?" Hammond asked, and Daniel felt the words begin to weigh on him.

"Please, there is much to explain," Sha're asked. "May I not be freed to see my husband?"

Hammond eyed her closely, but Sha're didn't budge, her eyes still wide open. "Get me Dr. Frasier at once," he ordered to the marine standing next to him. Then he turned, and gave a curt nod to Daniel.

"Sha're," Daniel murmured, stepping forward.

With a joyous laugh, she took the few steps between them, and then she was in his arms. Warm, secure, smelling just how he remembered, and he buried his face in her hair and forgot about the guards standing round with raised weapons. For a moment he just held her, and then began to comprehend the child he was almost squashing between them. Letting go just a few inches, he looked down into her face, raising a hand to wipe a tear from her bright eye, and drinking in her smile.

He glanced down, and the baby in her arms moaned and wriggled, and he saw a round pink face with a golden glow, and big dark eyes beneath an even darker fringe. "Who is this?" he whispered, overwhelmed and almost in awe.

"It is my child, rescued from Apophis' plans," Sha're said, and he looked back at her and saw old hurt and new joy mingling in her eyes. "I hope that—"

"That he will be ours?" Daniel asked, a smile escaping his happy confusion. Sha're's own smile broadened, and he squeezed her closer. "I didn't think you would ever come back to me," he said quietly.

They stood a few seconds more, and then a slight cough had Daniel turning back. He remembered the audience, and saw Hammond. "Dr. Jackson, your wife needs to be taken to the infirmary at once, for an MRI among other things."

Daniel nodded, but couldn't bring himself to let go. "Go ahead," he said with a nod to the marines, who looked hesitant. With one arm around his wife, he started walking down with them to the infirmary. For some reason all his worry was gone. He wanted to know the whole story—but he felt that there would be all the time in the world for them to understand it.

Sha're was back. He was not a failure. And maybe none of the troubling past months had been in vain if they had led to this.

—

**Author's Note: **Thank you for the feedback! I should be able to reply to each review individually from now on.

One note, the Tok'ra are not invested in the faster hyperdrive because so little of what they do is with ships. And they'd only be ready to accept the chameleon device if it was foolproof, although close to that might be worth it in a situation where they absolutely needed it.


	52. Family

**Chapter 51 - Family**

Daniel didn't need to pay much attention to his surroundings to know that the entire SGC was a buzz. He barely left Sha're's side for more than a couple feet, but the murmur and interrupting voices in the background occasionally would address him anyways.

The MRI proved the unspoken claim, that Amonet really was gone. Before anything else, Sha're opened up with the first part of her story. "Sa'm and Jolinar rescued me from Abydos," she said quietly, directly. "The Tok'ra cared for me through my pregnancy, helped my child when he was born, and then Sa'm and Jolinar brought me here. There was no other way to do it than through stealth, but that is all."

She looked at Daniel, and then he listened to her words instead of the wonderful sound of her voice. "Sam?" he asked, surprised.

"Do you still think ill of her, Dan'yel?" Sha're asked, disappointed as she looked him in the face.

"It's complicated, Sha're," said Janet as she swabbed Sha're's arm. "Now, I need to make sure you're in good health, and your child too. After that, I hope you don't mind, but we need to do some x-rays and things like that to make sure there's nothing wrong with you."

"Do not worry, I am not a bomb," said Sha're, smiling at the doctor. "I will let you do your tests, but not on Shifu, not yet."

"Shifu?" said Daniel, looking again at the baby she cradled in her arms.

"Is it not a good name?" Sha're asked, her smile transferring to him. "Sa'm said that I should wait for you, but it is good that I did not, no?"

Daniel reached for her hand, looking down for a second. He had missed not only the naming, but nearly the first two months of his son's life. "No, it is a beautiful name," he said, bringing his eyes back up to her face.

"Dr. Jackson, a moment please," said Hammond from where he stood in the background of the infirmary, just watching.

Daniel stepped a few feet back, and Sha're turned her attention to what Janet was doing. "Hmm?"

"Assuming that Dr. Frasier's tests all come clean, what do you think of this situation?" Hammond asked in a low tone.

Daniel tried not to look back at his wife, and tried to focus on everything surrounding the fact that she was alive, and happy, and with him again. His brow wrinkled for a few seconds, but he didn't frown. "I think it might prove what I said after the last time we dealt with this situation. Sam at least still means us no harm, and probably Jolinar as well."

"Let's not get too excited just yet," advised Hammond. "The fact is that we will have to get a full report of Sha're's experience, including what information she picked up while she was with the Tok'ra."

Daniel frowned, and rubbed the bridge of his nose, leaning forward in earnest. "Sir, you can't just jump in with a lot of questions, though. She's obviously tired, not least because she's the mother of a very young child, and—and General, I finally got my wife back. I'd like to spend some time with her before she's under interrogation."

Hammond nodded. "We're not heartless, Dr. Jackson. As soon as Dr. Frasier clears her, I can give you the rest of today. The woman looks as if she needs a good rest anyway, and tomorrow morning will be as acceptable a time as any."

Daniel felt a bit of tension start to dissipate. "Thank you sir," he said, smiling.

"I'm glad for you," said Hammond, smiling back in a rare moment of care.

Daniel turned back, saw Sha're looking at him. She smiled widely, and he felt a ridiculous grin coming to match it. Janet was just running her tests, and Sha're was lightly bouncing Shifu on her lap. Daniel took his seat by her side, and a hand reached out almost without though to stroke her arm. She looked into his eyes, and he saw the promise that everything would be fine, everything would start mending to what it had once been—just as soon as they could get all these pesky people out of the way.

He held her gaze for a moment, repeating the unspoken promise, then looked down to Shifu. "Can I?" he asked.

"Of course," Sha're answered.

Daniel wouldn't have thought he had room in his heart other than what belonged to Sha're—and then all in a second, as he took the gurgling infant and cradled his heavy head, he knew that there was room for his heart to grow. He was going to be a father.

ooooooo

The journey home was no more silent than it should have been. Sam and Jolinar could have made it anything but silent, but with no words to say, they were peacefully pensive.

_*Are you going to worry about her?*_

_~What would be the point? We can't know or help at this point.~_

_*That is true, of course, but I don't feel it wise to assume completely objective views from you at all time.*_

_~Nicely stated, not quite an insult or a compliment.~_

_*Because it is neither.*_

_~I could tell. I meant what I said to her; I think it'll go well.~_

_*As do I.*_

_~All we have to do is our own jobs.~_

The hyperdrive performed as planned for the whole trip back as well, leaving the malfunction of the cloak the only error in their plan. Nothing to report other than a successful in-and-out stealth mission, and a successful return of Sha're.

ooooooo

As Janet did her final tests, Daniel realized that Mckay had left. Left, and shared the news. Teal'c came first, and Daniel only figured out just how much guilt he had borne by seeing that some of it was now gone. Sha're was more at ease than any of them, and smiled and bowed her head to Teal'c in full forgiveness.

"Without you, I should have not had Shifu," she said.

Daniel knew she didn't take that subject lightly, and the hurt and discomfort could not be over psychologically—but looking at Shifu, it was easy to see why anyone, especially his mother, would do everything to look past that. Perhaps she had even found a way to live past it too.

A little later, and Jack and Dixon returned. Jack was more excited than Daniel had ever seen him, especially since Sam had gone. He was grinning, slapping Daniel on the back, bowing courteously to Sha're, and criticizing the baby's features with the fond mockery of any uncle. Sha're laughed, even more so when Dixon scooped up Shifu and started cooing exuberantly. The two older men were much freer with Shifu than Sha're and Janet had been, and Daniel found himself frowning with worry as he watched their antics. Then they noticed him.

"Someone's got new father neurotics," Dixon snorted, as Daniel's fingers kept a rhythmic beat on his thigh.

"Kids are pretty sturdy, Daniel," said Jack, handing Shifu back to his mother finally. "Right, Sha're?"

"They are not," Daniel protested, as Sha're laughed and said, "To an extent, yes."

Jack smirked. "We would know better."

"And don't worry, you will too, eventually," said Dixon, thumping Daniel's shoulder a second time.

"Speaking of that," said Janet, coming back over to where they all sat in her infirmary. "I've finished with the tests, and given the results General Hammond is satisfied. Sha're, you are free to roam around the SGC, as long as you are accompanied by either Dr. Jackson or an armed marine at all times—just for a probation period."

Sha're nodded. "I understand."

"Good," said Janet cordially. "Now, there is a room made ready for you and your child on the VIP level—Daniel can show you there. I'd like to follow a regular check-up schedule over the next couple days, to make sure everything stays well. Okay?"

Sha're smiled. "Of course, whatever is necessary for my cooperation."

The others drifted off, and Daniel found himself staring at her. A year and a half, at least, since he had seen her this happy, this peaceful. She had aged more than that; if not so much physically, then definitely in the character behind her face.

"Dan'yel," she said softly, meeting his gaze with a soft twist of her lips. "Shall we go?"

"Right," he answered, blinking. He stood up, offering her an arm. "Let's get settled for good."

She snuggled into his arm, sighing as they left the bright lights of the infirmary. A guard stood at the edge of the hall, but as soon as Daniel shut the door, that was forgotten. It was hardly VIP by Daniel's standards, but that meant nothing. Sha're immediately found the makeshift bassinet, and Shifu, who had dozed off once the noise was finally gone, was placed within.

She shook her arms a little, sitting on the edge of the bed with a little happy sigh. Smiling, she patted the seat next to her, and Daniel blinked, once again realizing that he was standing like a gazing fool. They sat, side by side, taking a deep breath of the silence.

"Is it like what you imagined?" he asked quietly. She had never been on base before.

"It is like what Sa'm described for me, so yes," she answered. "And so much better, because with you and Shifu, it is now home."

So Sam was the first to give Sha're a mental tour of this place; Daniel felt like the outcast one for a moment.

Then Sha're turned closer to him, and raised a hand to brush his cheek. He lost track of everything in the room, in the base, in the world, and anywhere else. His hand slipped to the small of her back as she removed his glasses. Her face was close enough to his that he could still see every detail as clear as life, and he slipped her into his embrace just as she leaned in to kiss him. It was soft and gentle, because they were both tired in so many ways, and distance had taken its toll despite their loyalty.

But Sha're pulled back just for a second, just to catch her breath, and then Daniel felt overwhelmed with her as she melded her body against his. A year of lost time turned the instant renewal of their passion into something that couldn't survive sitting up. Sha're pulled him back down onto the bed, his fingers tangling in her curls and pushing them back from her face as he kissed her all over. And he completely forgot about his glasses.

Tonight he wouldn't be going home to an empty bed. Not when everything he had ever wanted was here. Sha're might advise him to thank Sam for it, if she could have anything on her mind but him—and if he had any mind left to hear. They were happy to be otherwise occupied.

ooooooo

Sam conveyed the records to Anise, who frowned at the error, but as Sam left the most flawless information to last, they parted on smooth terms. Sam wondered how often Anise was called on for things like this, and Jolinar had to admit that she didn't know. The Tok'ra made innovations, of course, but nothing that Jolinar was familiar with. Any of them could have taken years just as much as weeks; Jolinar had only ever used them.

There wasn't much time left in the day, and nothing on their schedule. As planned, they would have a full day of rest before returning to Quetesh—and it was unlikely that they'd be coming back here again, not for a long time, not when reports could be made distantly.

Jolinar noticed it first, the difference in the feeling now that Sha're was home. The way there wasn't an unconscious tensing as they ringed down to the tunnels, the way they could focus and not feel like they were forgetting something. Jolinar couldn't recall the last time she had felt like that, but in the silence Sam seemed to understand that it had been with Rosha.

_~Are we ever going to talk about that?~ _Her question wasn't tentative, but it was soft.

_*It is possible.* _There was no flinch in her answer, no true avoidance.

But not today, not before the mission like this. Jolinar knew where Selmak's quarters were, and Sam had a feeling she'd be familiar with their location too before long. He and Jacob were still taking it easy, but more than happy to liven things up.

"All these memories and stories—it's almost like being in history class," Jacob said, as Sam hugged him.

"I haven't really focused on that part," Sam admitted, sitting next to him on the bed in the quarters. "It's been more like—a family drama, than anything else."

"Which Selmak is finding very odd," Jacob said, leaning back and stretching his arm out across the headrest that they sat against. "Did you notice that they don't really deal much with relationships? Everything's very understated, but not on purpose. So Selmak's used to reading between the lines, and now—we brought lines, kid. Big fat ones."

Sam grinned. "It is a bit strange for them, I guess, two hosts who have a history."

_*To go along with the two symbiotes, yes, it is abnormal.*_

"It is the sort of relationship that should be encouraged, in any normal society," Selmak said, and neither Sam nor Jolinar had noticed the change. "And if it is not here, then at least in this situation it is paramount."

"Is that what you think?" Jolinar asked, when Sam wasn't sure what to make of it. Her feelings were wary, and it seemed like Selmak had spoken words that touched her, but she couldn't qualify how.

"I think that your relationship with Samantha, and mine with Jacob, has saved much disaster," said Selmak.

Jolinar turned a little, looking across at Selmak's expression on Jacob's face. She said nothing, falling back to inner thoughts of how some of that disaster was a result of the relationship in the first place.

"In any case, we may now be at ease and without guilt over personal behavior, if I am correct," Selmak finished, clearly implying that the 'if' was not needed. His arm seemed to slip a little, resting around Jolinar's shoulders.

Jolinar paid attention to the action, and Sam recognized its purpose first. Jolinar gave a light sigh and didn't pull back, though. "If you are correct," she said, finishing the conversation for the moment.

It was a quiet evening, and the physical closeness of the four was comforting in the way it drowned out all barriers. This was abnormal—this was something Jolinar had only ever shared before with her mates. But Sam remembered family as such a core value that it did not feel wrong to feel it as more than a memory.

ooooooo

Daniel woke and couldn't breathe. Panic flooding his veins, he turned his head from what was smothering it, and gulped in half air and half—well, half Sha're's hair. As the adrenaline was already beginning to dissipate, he brought up his hand and pulled the attacking curls from his face, smiling as he spat out a couple loose strands. He would give anything to wake up in terror every morning, if it was always just the fear that his wife was over-close to him in the night.

Her warm body was draped over him, her head and one hand resting beneath the covers on his bare chest. Sometime in between love and utter exhaustion, Sha're had moved Shifu into the bed with him so that she was sandwiched between them both. As this meant that she was within arms' reach to quiet the child in the night, Daniel had fully approved, as Shifu was very picky about meals and comfort.

That being said, and despite the late night, Daniel felt alert and refreshed. He hadn't even had coffee yet, and though he knew he'd need it in a little, right now he did not. He lay comfortably, Sha're's sleeping frame rising with his chest at every breath. Running his fingers gently up her skin, he stroked the smooth skin of her back, brushed each stretch mark on her side, and started to write imaginary characters with his fingertips. Safety, health, happiness, in Chinese and Japanese and Ancient Egyptian.

After a few minutes she woke with a giggle under her breath. "Dan'yel," she whispered, "that feels strange."

"So did your hair in my mouth this morning," he answered back.

He felt her free hand reach to touch Shifu, make sure he was still there.

"He's not an early riser?" Daniel asked quietly.

Sha're shook her head, lifting it to look Daniel in the face. "He is usually up too late; he was most cooperative last night."

"Most cooperative?" Daniel asked, a bemused smile at the word choice.

"Are you surprised at how I speak, Dan'yel?" she asked playfully, dancing her fingers up his chest and throat.

"Perhaps I will not be once I hear your full story," Daniel allowed. She dipped down for a kiss, something slow and sweet in the morning. No urgency needed. "I love you," he murmured, in the Abydonian they had once spoken to each other.

Despite the situation, he managed to pull out a half-normal morning for all three of them. Sha're wore her short underrobe beneath the set of fatigues that had been prepared for her, but refused flat out to put Shifu in the "horrid" plastic diapers provided. She had brought her own linen ones, and Daniel didn't blame her choice.

It was only leaving the room that Daniel remembered that things in general weren't exactly back to normal like in his world. Technically Sha're was still on probation. Technically she needed to be interrogated first and foremost. Technically even taking those two things out of the question, nothing was normal at all about the situation.

Of all the mornings that Daniel didn't care about team meals, this was the one where he cared least, and where all the team swarmed them. At least, that was Daniel's perception. Dixon gave his greetings to Sha're again, saying with a wink that he wasn't sure if she noticed him yesterday.

She laughed, and didn't exactly deny the fact.

Mckay too had a few words, and Jack quite a few more. Teal'c held Shifu for Sha're so that she would have both hands to eat.

"I recall when Ry'ac, my son, was of a similar size to this," he said.

"I didn't know you had a son," said Sha're, nodding her thanks to him. Shifu was staring with saucer eyes up at Teal'c, but not fussing. "How many years?"

"Eight," Teal'c answered. He looked down at Shifu, and smiled in a way that Daniel had not seen before. Shifu didn't expect it either, and froze after a blink. But he was not crying, and so Daniel tried to feel as at ease as Sha're.

The team did leave them after breakfast, and life on the base was continuing as usual. Mckay mentioned wanting to ask Sha're a few questions about how she got here, because his duty was going to be installing better outside security.

"You'll get the notes from the meeting," Daniel said.

As Mckay preferred facts to communication, even with someone like Sha're whom he seemed to like instantly, no protestation followed.

"I will need my focus to remember," Sha're said, as Daniel led her towards the briefing room where she would give her full report on her rescue and return. "Will you keep Shifu?"

Daniel nodded quickly. "Of course." Janet had provided Sha're with a bottle, and while Sha're was skeptic of using it for feeding, she let Daniel fill it with water to keep Shifu occupied.

General Hammond sat at the head of the table, accompanied on either side by representatives of the Pentagon and the NID. Sha're took her seat just down from that, and Daniel took the seat across from her, holding Shifu upright in his lap so that he could see Sha're.

"We would like to start off with your unhindered story, Mrs. Jackson," said Godwin, the NID agent, opening his files and clicking his pen open.

"Just tell us everything that you think is important, from time you last saw Dr. Jackson until now," said Hammond, a little more personal in tone.

If they expected her to cringe under the cool gaze and formal atmosphere, they had not been paying attention to the reports. Though Daniel himself was surprised at her easy air, it soon became clear that she'd been preparing for this.

"What made you trust Captain Carter, even knowing she was possessed?" Cribbins from the Pentagon asked, as Sha're made it through to the part of the story where Sam had come to Abydos.

"She did not behave as a Goa'uld would," said Sha're, resting her hands in a clasped position on the edge of the table, in a manner that imitated Mr. Godwin in a way he seemed to find eery. "There was no force, only promises of aid."

"Such as?" Cribbins questioned.

"A promise to return me to my Dan'yel once Amonet was slain," said Sha're.

"And these promises were kept?"

"Yes, and much more," said Sha're. "I was treated as a guest, even when Sa'm and Jolinar were not around."

"You speak of the two as separate," Godwin brought in.

"Was I not separate from Amonet?" Sha're asked him, her eyelids slightly hooding her eyes in an impression of simplicity.

As the conversation continued, Sha're's good humor seemed to fade with every question. Daniel might have guessed that they had made a mistake with Sam long before this, and maybe even Hammond had reassessed that issue—but these two men had certainly not. Even worse, they were simply spouting the reasoning that had been the SGC's only recently—and it was hurting Sha're. The more she talked of Sam and Jolinar's care for her, and the support of the Tok'ra in general for her case, the more Daniel felt her disbelief that these suspicious questions were still being asked.

He felt guilty for ever allowing that she might not be telling the objective truth. It did not matter if it was subjective, because this whole matter was. And there was no way that a base of hundreds would change its entire purpose just to fool one woman who might report back to the SGC. Sha're might be biased, but she couldn't help but speak the truth.

Daniel had a feeling that the analysis of this briefing would be just as painful for all of them as its necessity was to Sha're. Shifu bounced in his lap, suckling down the water in the bottle with gusto, and Daniel now knew just how indebted he was to Sam and Jolinar for this opportunity.

ooooooo

"Are you free?" Sam asked, as she finished breakfast with her father and Selmak.

"For whatever you have in mind," Jacob said, nodding. "Selmak and I have decided to use our time wisely before the grind begins."

Sam grinned. "Maybe a game or two, then?"

"Sounds good," said Jacob, and Sam could see his mind conferring with Selmak on what game they had been familiar with. He frowned. "Wait—come on, Sammy."

She cocked an eyebrow at the name, while Jolinar tried to grimace but only managed a mental smirk. She blamed Sam for the fact that she was almost finding this amusing.

"Checkers?" Jacob looked incredulous. "You just showed them checkers?"

"It was simple," said Sam. "Chess, then? I'm sure you and I could make a set."

"That's more like it," said Jacob with a snorting sigh. "I knew I'd have something to teach this old guy."

Sam laughed. "You _would_ assume that, Dad."

If it hadn't been for her dad's straight-forward outlook, Sam would have felt silly scrounging for appropriate chess-like pieces. He was impressed by the checker-board that they'd created, and both Sam and Jolinar discovered that Selmak had an artistic side. After attaching small scraps of tunnel crystal to each other in a style that was close enough for those who knew what it should look like, they retired to Selmak and Jacob's quarters again.

Jolinar didn't want to hear the rules, and though Selmak was a quick learner, he preferred that Jacob start. So Sam took white and Jacob took black, and they played a few traditional moves. It was not hard for Sam to see just when Jolinar started to take interest, and realize that the game wasn't just a mind puzzle. Jolinar had never cared for planning out strategies just for the fun of it, but as Sam started to win and lose pieces, Jolinar suddenly found herself caring. And she blamed Sam.

They played in a fairly standard fashion for the first half hour, both Sam and Jacob immersing themselves in playing the game for people who had never heard of it. They were rusty too.

Then Jolinar caught onto Sam's building strategy, cautious as she judged how her father was going to play. The symbiote pulled it into focus, giving Sam a moment's pause to recheck, and then Jolinar's intuition took hold and spun out exactly what Sam had been planning.

_~How did you—wait.~ _Sam struggled with it for a moment, Jolinar equally in the dark, until Sam accepted the fact that Jolinar just knew how things worked. She acted quickly, but when it failed, it wasn't a lack of planning, just that one could never know the exact future. But when it worked, it wasn't just luck, it was just that she unconsciously knew in an instant what took Sam logical progression to figure out.

_*And your reasoning for that is proof,* _Jolinar commented, not objecting to the content.

While they waited, Jacob finished thinking. He moved his bishop, and Sam and Jolinar frowned at once. "That's unusual," Sam said aloud.

"Selmak is not so sure he does not know how to play," Jacob said with a hinting smirk. "And he's bringing in strategies I'd never seen before."

Sam said nothing, only looked at the board, knowing that now she'd have to rethink her strategy to take new ones from them into account. _~Jolinar, want a go at it?~_

Far from the caution she'd felt before, Jolinar had a feeling she knew Selmak well enough to make this work. _*You have convinced me about this game of yours,* _she said as she eventually prepared her move.

Many hours later, with a stalemate outcome, Sam and Jolinar took their leave. It was one of the few times that Jolinar didn't feel urgently called back to their mission. Despite the relaxation, chess was just a warm-up to the real thing awaiting them. Now, just as the peace and satisfaction made it comfortable for them to be often around others of the Tok'ra, they were facing a long mission. Jolinar almost regretted that she still had so few that she called close to her.

And Sam, through her, didn't regret so much as wonder how her few were so closely tied to Jolinar's.


	53. Lifework

**Chapter 52 - Lifework**

The NID didn't have much change in heart after the briefing. Sha're was now as Teal'c had been, only worse. Teal'c had been raised, perhaps brainwashed, to believe in the Goa'uld. Sha're had the memories of one in her mind. Daniel didn't dare to fight them on the point, not when everything was so close in balance.

The one thing on his side was the cautions about diplomacy lately. Sha're would probably be considered a leader figure to the Abydonians, and was also a de facto ambassador from the Tok'ra. And the NID weren't sure what they believed, but they couldn't afford to completely disregard Sha're's extensive testimony about the Tok'ra. They were no longer named as enemies, but certainly not allies yet. Much like Sha're, who was required to both stay on base and be subject to both physical and psychological check-ups on a regular basis.

Daniel worried, but as that was as far as it went, he took what he could get. Sha're, while not given a general keycard, could walk around without an armed guard and open the door to her room. Their room, now. Daniel announced that he was not going to be going back to his apartment, and everyone seemed to approve. He even had the NID's support, as there would always be an eye on Sha're.

And Daniel didn't intend taking his eyes off of her for quite some time. Despite the worries, she was here, and she was herself, and all the pent-up frustration and pain were fading faster than he could tell. Peace and love filled him, even as he looked to Shifu. Shifu, who wasn't his, no matter what he and Sha're promised to each other. Someday, he promised to himself, he'd overcome the hurt with love.

"Do you want to go to your people before tonight?" Daniel asked, as he helped Sha're finish arranging their room. "I could make it happen, I think."

"Not yet," said Sha're, holding the incense that Daniel had always kept in his lab, and smiling. "Shifu has been too quiet today, and that can only mean one thing."

Daniel's brow furrowed.

Sha're sighed, looking at him. "Dan'yel, you will have to learn, our child is not a good one. He does not care about our sleep or our nerves."

"Well, I don't think babies can," said Daniel.

"Yes, I know, he doesn't mean it," said Sha're, smiling at Shifu, who lay on his back on the bed drooling and looking up at the ceiling, kicking out with short fat legs. "But it is troubling in any case."

Daniel nodded, thinking to himself.

"Do you know this one thing, Dan'yel?" Sha're asked, her tone brighter as she looked up at him. He saw her eyes dance and started to worry. "You have missed a month of taking your turn with both colic and diapers. I shall be watching with peace as you make it up."

Daniel paused, uncertain and not quite happy with that idea. But then he looked at Sha're, looked at his son, and nodded. It was worth the sacrifices.

ooooooo

With the day nearly done, only one loose end remained for Sam and Jolinar. Jolinar easily matched Martouf's broad smile as he waited with a blanket by the rings, ready to take them up to the surface.

Sam had been a part of this ritual a few times now, but tonight felt different. They had brought some food to eat together as the sun dipped behind the horizon, the sand a sea around them. It wasn't just the warmth that somehow Sam had come to tolerate, but something deeper. She wasn't just an outsider, someone off in the mental distance. When Jolinar looked up into Martouf or Lantash's face, Sam was there.

"Life has not been smooth for you recently, beloved," Lantash said quietly, one arm resting loosely around Jolinar's waist as she leaned against him, both of them staring out into the oncoming night.

"Hm," was all Jolinar acknowledged.

"Everywhere you turn, a new surprise mission," Lantash continued to comment. Jolinar's brow barely furrowed, but he wasn't looking down at her. "Each more difficult."

Jolinar said nothing, and Lantash turned his head to look down at her. "Do you think it will end?"

"There is no one so continually downtrodden as that, my love," she chided lightly, seriously, looking back up into his eyes. Both the golden sunset and the soft glow of emotion colored his eyes into something soft and beautiful to her.

"So it is just poor luck, all that has happened to you?"

Then Jolinar found it hard to meet his gaze. It was easy to be straightforward to the Council, hide the truth that wouldn't matter after this mission. But not to Lantash. Not to Martouf. Jolinar was another, better, person with them. So she tried to hold their gaze, and didn't answer.

Lantash's eyes tightened infinitesimally, but he said nothing either. His arm pulled her a little tighter to him, and only after a minute did he say quietly, "Even Martouf will admit that it seems unfair."

Jolinar wanted to come back as she always did, say that fairness didn't matter, that there really was no such thing in life, especially not with her. But as Sam perhaps felt more keenly, at the moment the universe did feel unfairly against them. Perhaps they'd goaded it, chosen this path. But not all of it.

Sam felt the pain of loss, even as Martouf and Lantash were so close. She was reminded just how this tore at this marriage, and that knowledge hurt almost more than the deep longing that Jolinar couldn't hide. That even Sam felt, in this moment.

The night was almost on them, the warmth almost gone from the air. Martouf was in control again, and he turned, ready for the soft goodnight kiss as always.

Sam swallowed, and felt and thought all in an instant, and there was no wait time for Jolinar. Looking up into the eyes of her beloved mate, she felt the new limits, and was eager in her gratitude.

"Tonight is different," she whispered. She reached up a hand to Martouf's neck, and caught sight of the intensifying glow in his eyes as she pulled him in for a much deeper kiss than planned.

The control was still tight, as it had to be, but after all these weeks it felt like letting go of everything. Jolinar opened herself to them with the kiss, body and mind, and Martouf answered, pulling her tightly to him, his mouth reaching for hers.

She wound her arms around him, feeling the muscles beneath his tunic with indulgent pleasure, letting each touch of his linger. His fingers ran soft circles on her back, gentle enough not to ignite completely the fire that threatened. They had permission, but it was not full yet.

Sam let herself float along, as she had no other choice. And most of her understood, if anything could be understood in this haze of primal emotions and barely-held control, that she didn't really want another choice.

Even so, the control still won out in the end. Jolinar broke for breath, Lantash now in control almost not wanting to let her. She inhaled deeply, then leaned into him, letting out her breath as a signal that this was as far as they could go. His arms loosened somewhat around her as he let out his own sigh, satisfaction and yearning both entwined in it.

It was soon late, and they lay back on the blanket side by side, staring up at the stars. Martouf put out his arm, and Jolinar rested her head on it, her hands folded across her chest. She had never quite lost Sam, not tonight, but now she fell back into the pool of thought they both shared. It was late, and their mission began tomorrow.

They fell asleep with the stars as witnesses, close but not close enough.

ooooooo

"I noticed you didn't stop to ask me if I needed a carpool, now that you live on base," said Mckay as he passed Daniel in the hall next morning.

"I thought you were okay to drive," said Daniel. "Didn't Frasier and Brymon clear you?"

"Yes, but we hadn't arranged that," Mckay said.

"Sorry," said Daniel. "I was a bit busy."

"Yes, about that," Mckay said, turning to face Daniel and walk backwards a few steps, one hand raised. "You're not going to let this whole family thing distract you too much, are you?"

Daniel blinked. "You mean apart from the given? Well, things are a bit chaotic now, but I don't think that will last. I hope it doesn't last."

Mckay nodded, taking the next turn on his way to his lab. Daniel's brow furrowed as he realized that, despite Mckay's backwards priorities, he had a point. His life hadn't been busy before—it was essentially the SGC.

The thought vanished as he neared his lab and heard the phone ringing. Careful not to spill coffee from his mug, he hurried in, picking it up one with one hand. "This is Dr. Jackson."

"_Dr. Daniel Jackson, I presume?"_

"Oh," said Daniel, surprised. "Jean Miller, right? And yes, you have the right number."

"_I did tell you I'd call back."_

"Yes, I know," said Daniel. "I get a little scatterbrained when things are hectic, that's all."

"_Oh. I was going to tell you that Kaleb and I will be in the area tomorrow, and we wanted the tour you promised. But if it's a bad time..."_

"Oh no, it's not that," said Daniel. "My wife came back, with our son, and it's...well, it's complicated."

"_Classified complicated or normal complicated?"_

"The former," Daniel said with a sigh. "Anyways, so you'll be stopping by then?"

"_Yes, and I'll tell you, our expectations are high."_

"I'd say not high enough, but I don't want to scare you off," said Daniel. "We'll be expecting you, then. I'll make sure NORAD knows."

Jean said goodbye, and Daniel hung up the phone.

"Who's coming through NORAD?" Mckay asked, suddenly at Daniel's door.

"A new scientist," Daniel said, remembering who she was in relation to Mckay just at that moment. "What are you doing here?"

"And _you're_ in contact?" Mckay asked skeptically.

Daniel paused for a second, wondering how to tell him. Then, he smiled inwardly, and knew what he wanted to do. "Would you prefer being the one to give them the tour?"

Mckay hesitated. "I don't do tours."

"I don't either," said Daniel with a shrug. "But you're the leader of the division she's interested in, so...I guess I could get Tobias to do it, since it was her recruit."

"No, I can handle it," said Mckay swiftly. "Tomorrow, right?"

Daniel nodded. "Mckay, what are you doing here in the first place?"

Mckay paused, looked past Daniel as he seemed to be trying to grab a stray thought. "Oh—just, make sure you check your memos, even if you aren't spending as much time in your lab. I do not need more of a time lag than is already there."

"You don't send me memos," said Daniel.

"No, but I'm waiting in the briefing room having to waste my time because you didn't get the General's," said Mckay.

Daniel half-snorted and looked over his glasses.

"When I'm on time, yes, don't give me that look," Mckay muttered, glaring a bit as he turned to leave.

Daniel went back to his work, deciding just how much of Mckay's bluster was denial in this case. Probably not much, he concluded, but there might have been a hint of disappointment. Daniel figured that his odd companionship with Mckay was partly because they had allied in the face of military pressure, sharing the same passion and workaholic bachelor actions. Losing a piece of that might be affecting Mckay.

But even more interesting, where the scientist was concerned, was that Daniel had set him up to meet his sister unawares tomorrow. And Daniel was sure to be there for that meeting.

ooooooo

Dorieth waited for Sam and Jolinar, and it did not notice the change. In it for the long haul now, they relaxed just a little on the procedures. No need to absorb everything that was going on in every moment; the cover was more important, and that called for ease and confidence.

Sam needed to lay out the facets clearly to herself, and Jolinar didn't object to the clarity. Discover more of Quetesh's plan. Set in motion a counter plan. That was simple enough, but further down, there were the temple and the Abydonians and the Jaffa.

Jolinar watched as the slaves still worked in the fields. Once muddy and drab, the plains now grew lush and rich. The paths and improved irrigation ditches had come together slowly, as everything seemed to do when limited to manual labor. Sam wondered if a Goa'uld would ever grow weary of hiding technology and just use it, no "magic of the gods" excuse.

Jolinar herself inspected the quality of the paving stones, as the road itself expanded ever further. The quarry that provided them, a type of shale as far as Sam could label it, had produced good quality material for the first part of the road. However, the farther the road reached, the more Jolinar noticed a crumbling quality to some of the stones. She put on a facade of disapproval, and used it to get a tour of the quarry itself.

"These tools are deficient," Jolinar stated, and as Coron she only touched them with distaste. "How long since they were properly sharpened?"

Rodon, her Jaffa delegate for this aspect on this planet, sent a sharp glare to one of the slaves, who stumbled to answer. "Too long, my lord. They were not intended for this kind of work."

"Rodon, I trust you to have that mended before I notice the quality shift again," Jolinar finished, speaking without looking the Jaffa in the eye.

His sun-browned face darkened with worry as Jolinar caught his look out of the corner of his eye. Jolinar did care about the workmanship, but it was still an exaggeration. And Sam's thoughts started spinning again.

_*I feel only thoughtfulness—what is it?*_

_~Just thinking about things way far off in the plan. How are we going to defeat Quetesh eventually?~_

_*Ah, the simple questions.*_

_~And? We can't do it alone, can we?~_

_*The usual way would call for some infiltration and using her power against her, but balanced with a limited rebellion among her slaves. We do not use such drastic measures as these often, though.*_

Jolinar led them up to the temple, her own thoughts taking all Sam's speculations and running with them, not paying so much attention to where Sam's thoughts were headed now.

_~So, I take it we can't be part of that?~ _Sam queried after a moment. _~I mean, provoking the riot.~_

_*No, we are the infiltration, manipulating the power structure to suit our needs.*_

_~I'm just thinking though,~ _Sam continued, and Jolinar took a breath and left her thoughts on the temple. _~Teal'c. He was first prime, he had position and respect, and by throwing that all away he did gain some followers.~_

_*But not all, I see,* _said Jolinar, both feeling and knowing from Sam's memories. _*It would be dangerous for us as well as the movement. Better to have an instigator from among the lower ranks.*_

_~I just don't know about that,~ _said Sam. _~It's going to be tough to gain respect that way. If we, proving ourselves Quetesh's loyal follower over many weeks, start sowing doubt, it will sink in before they know what they're thinking.~_

_*And if they suspect, there may be another coup. We are not trained to handle something so delicate, and it is not worth the risk.*_

Sam wasn't sure what Jolinar was overlooking, but she felt that it was there. Even so, she couldn't counter that statement, and so she let the thoughts simmer in the back of her mind, hoping the one she was trying to grasp onto would float to the top.

Jolinar frowned as she walked the perimeter of the temple. More pieces were in place, filling out the design that was only obviously complex upon close inspection. Instead of each section being fully completed at once, the basic structure for it all had been assembled, followed by the sub-sections, and so forth. Now it seemed almost all but the minor details were remaining. It was still another couple weeks out to completion, but Jolinar worried what that day would bring.

Her mind shifted back to the other projects on this planet, for a moment overviewing them for any obvious connection. Were the crops and naquadah mining really just to support the temple and its workers? Was it just a conglomeration that seemed to work?

_~Is there a traditional structure to Goa'uld home-worlds?~ _Sam asked.

Jolinar answered negatively. In fact, as Sam saw from her thoughts, the idea of a home-world was not necessarily universal.

They walked down the temple steps, soaking up the sun after their recent days in the Tok'ra underground. The tunnel lights were meant to provide the same health of sun, but synthetic always lacked something according to Jolinar. Sam wasn't intellectually sure...but feeling the heat of the sun on their skin, the bright golden color that it granted to everything around them. There was definitely benefit in that.

Passing through the village, Sam noticed one of the Abydonian women, and wondered just how they would manage to rescue them from the crowd in the end. Especially as Kasuf still refused to believe their story. And then, in that moment, her thoughts fit together.

_~Jolinar, we don't just have to be infiltrators. Or rather, we can take that one step further.~_

_*Hmm?*_

_~Eventually, we let a few of the Abydonians in on the plan. They can start the thoughts of rebellion, but under our direction. And maybe—Bra'tac. Teal'c's old master, I think, but definitely a leader among the Jaffa rebellion. We work with him, he can deal with the Jaffa.~_

_*Why would we deal with the Jaffa? You keep mentioning this, but it is not our way.*_

_~Because they'd be powerful allies, if convinced. You're working toward the same thing they want, freedom. Even if we just had a couple...~_

Jolinar paused, looking around the settlement. Sam's thoughts affected what she saw, and the Jaffa shifted from dangerous tools to slaves, just of a higher importance. She frowned, looking for a way to grasp fully onto this thought.

_*The Tok'ra do not need a full Jaffa rebellion. It would be worse than Quetesh's actions.*_

_~So we talk to them, ally with them. Bra'tac knew me and would probably speak to me, even if no one else. But we explain that the Tok'ra plan is long-term, and I think he has the power to get them to cooperate. We can work together.~_

_*For this one mission, or forever? The Jaffa are not trustworthy allies.*_

_~Maybe not now, but you haven't seen what they will do for freedom. And giving trust is a good way to get it, remember? This one mission would be a big step for them in any case. If it's completed, and Quetesh's Jaffa are freed, that would be enough to keep them occupied for some time.~_

Jolinar's frown deepened, but the less negative thoughts couldn't be hidden from Sam. So she waited, letting it sink in.

_*You would risk all this?*_

_~Isolation only works so far. The Jaffa can do things that the Tok'ra can't. There are so many reasons why this would work, Jolinar.~_

_*It is true that you have some experience in this, but it is also true that your mindset is not entirely in line with most of the Tok'ra. It will be work to convince them.*_

Sam paused before asking. _~Have I convinced you?~_

Jolinar's mood was hesitant, but things were going well, and so it was also open.

_~Well, in any case, we can let it sit for a while.~_

Jolinar nodded, and continued with Coron's duties on Dorieth.

That night, lying in their bed, preparing for the sleep that they still pretended was kel'no'reem, exhaustion did not overtake them as it had on their other nights on this planet. Jolinar cleared her mind methodically, and Sam followed suit, until there was nothing in the way.

And they were at peace. On a dangerous covert mission, with no solid plan for success, they had their first night of truly peaceful rest. Jolinar was content with leaving it at that, but Sam savored the moment, just a little. It had been a while, and she was glad to have it back. With that thought, Jolinar couldn't help but agree, and they ended up drifting off to sleep together.


	54. Known Strangers

**Chapter 53 - Known Strangers**

"So why were you involved with this?" Mckay asked Daniel, on his way up to escort Jean and Caleb Miller down. The astrophysicist had not been told the name of who he was going to meet, and given his slightly anti-social nature, it was not surprising that he hadn't asked.

"Tobias saw her work and thought it was good, but she resisted the military's advance," Daniel said. Mckay gave a shrug of grudging respect for that. "She asked that I step in and mediate."

"I find it hard to believe anyone's worth that much effort," said Mckay as the elevator rose floor by floor.

Daniel shrugged. "Well, I wouldn't know for sure."

"Exactly. Which is why you weren't the best one for the role."

"Well, of the other civilians, who do you think would have done better? You?"

Mckay gave a non-answer of acquiescence, and Daniel smiled to himself. On good days, this light banter was enjoyable. And reminiscent of his conversation with Jean, actually. He wondered what the two of them together would produce.

They arrived at the top.

"Why are you here, exactly?" Mckay asked.

"Just for the introduction," said Daniel, and that was straddling the line between truth and fiction a little more than any other part of this prank. He had a feeling it'd be worth it.

Mckay stood, looking bored and slightly fidgety. Daniel noticed the Millers coming from a ways off, but he didn't point Mckay in that direction. They were only fifteen feet away when Jean called.

"Ah, Dr. Jackson, there you are. I was hoping this was the right place."

"Call me Daniel," Daniel opened, as Mckay spun around at the sound of the voice.

Jean froze. "Meredith?" she choked.

Daniel was confused. Mckay was flustered. "Jeannie?" He turned to Daniel, incensed. "You recruited my sister?"

"Is your name Meredith?" asked Daniel, brow furrowed.

He winced. "Meredith Rodney Mckay, but I prefer Rodney, and that's not the point."

"Did he put you up to this?" Jean demanded, looking at Daniel.

"No," Daniel answered truthfully, looking her in the eye and pulling off a mostly-innocent look.

"Okay, this is just strange," Jean said, with a tense chuckle. She wore her hair down curled around her shoulders, and she pushed it aside and took a deep breath. "You didn't recognize the name?" she asked Mckay.

"I never heard it," Mckay protested. "I had no idea until yesterday, and—you're an actual scientist?"

Daniel smirked. The blunt subject change was very Mckay.

"Yes, Rodney," Jean said, rolling her eyes at the obviousness of the answer. "Far from what you think, I didn't just give it all up."

Daniel, not knowing exactly why Mckay and his sister had a supposedly conflicted relationship, glanced at Caleb now. He was standing almost unnoticed in the background, a great feat given his height. His calm hadn't wavered, though, so Daniel presumed that despite the bickering these two were safe to be around each other.

"Well, I didn't think you would stoop to government work," Mckay commented, crossing his arms over his chest. "Isn't that a taboo of yours?"

"First of all, I haven't agreed to work here," Jean said, gesturing with one hand while the other planted itself on her hip. "Because—which is secondly—the only thing I know is that Dr. Jackson was very convincing. I don't even know what goes on here."

"Oh," said Mckay, his crossed arms relaxing in surprise. "Really?" The sarcastic mask faded completely, leaving only a slight eagerness to share the wonders he'd seen.

Daniel ducked his head for a second to hide the grin.

"Yes, Mer, that's why I'm here," said Jean with a sigh.

"Are we ready to start the tour?" Daniel asked, judging it safe to jump into the conversation.

"Yes, please," said Jean, making herself brighten up and look past Mckay to Daniel.

"It's a good thing you weren't told anything, because you would _not_ believe this," Mckay commented as they entered the elevator. The eagerness was mixed with just a slight overtone of smugness.

"Mer, shut up please," said Jean curtly.

"Rodney," said Mckay through clenched teeth.

"Down to level 28 then," said Daniel brightly. He glanced at Caleb over the siblings' heads, and saw a smirk on the man's face. As he'd guessed, there wasn't anything too deep beneath the superficial sharp banter—it was more a social ritual than anything real. And he didn't feel too guilty for enjoying Mckay in this flustered state.

ooooooo

The hours turned into days on Dorieth, and Sam only realized she cared about keeping track when Jolinar did not. They would stay until the job was done, not for an arbitrary amount of time. Still, Sam was bound by time, and so even Jolinar's deep-rooted ways of thinking were slightly dislodged until she gave in.

In the month since they had first arrived on this world, the weather had consistently grown hotter, and Sam and Jolinar had noticed it consistently less. Sam was glad for a symbiote who was more used to heated temperatures, even if it didn't fully compensate. The planet also started into its dryer stage, though, as much as that could be on such a humid world, and everyone appreciated it.

No word from other worlds, and no more Jaffa or slave transfers, had taken place in the last couple days since they'd been on the planet. Still, every time Jolinar glanced up from where the paving stones were being slid into place on the road, tiny figures were more than likely moving up or down the road that bridged the stargate and the village.

Sam wondered when Quetesh would send word or check up in person, though Jolinar's first thought was that the latter was unlikely. It was only an idle thought, and distracted from their cover. But it struck them as foreboding when only hours later, the gate activated unexpectedly.

One of the Jaffa glanced up and drew Sam and Jolinar's attention to it, and Sam frowned. The sun was particularly glaring, and even squinting Sam couldn't see anything, so she ignored it and turned back to the road.

Behind her, only a few minutes later, she heard the slide of dirt and stones, and looked to see a slave half running, half slipping, down the hill. "My lord!" he called before he was close enough. As soon as he was, he stooped a little, saying through heaving breaths: "My lord, a servant of the gods, to speak with you."

_*Goa'uld?* _Jolinar questioned, sharp in her surprise.

"Name?" Sam questioned aloud, impassively.

"He would not speak to your Jaffa at the gate," the young slave said, seemingly resisting with effort the desire to rest his arms on his knees as he bent forward.

"Then bring him to me, I have no time for meaningless distractions," said Sam, waving him off with her hand._ ~So, this is curious, right?~_

_*Interesting, to say the least.*_

_~Why would one of Quetesh's lieutenants come here, and not to her flagship?~_

_*You're assuming it is one of Quetesh's. Any System Lord might have sent a servant, perhaps to issue challenge, perhaps to beg for alliance.*_

A near mishap with one of the gravel carts caught their attention, and their near-snap of an admonition was only half act. Jolinar apologized for the hint of temper that had leaked through into Sam, although Sam wasn't sure that it wasn't her. They remembered the approaching Goa'uld only when more footsteps were heard.

Sam spun around, erect and skeptical, and looked straight up into the eyes of Lantash.

Jolinar froze inwardly as Sam did outwardly. Her eyes briefly glanced down, taking in the close-cut green silk robes and minimalist gold adornment, and then looked back up to his fact to confirm. She must have been mistaken—but no, Jolinar's reaction was all she needed. That really was Lantash, glint in his eyes and a firm set to his mouth.

Sam felt only emotionally overwhelmed when she connected with Jolinar, and so she tried to draw herself out as much as possible, focusing on the situation. "What brings you to Dorieth," she half-demanded of Lantash, a slight frown on her face.

"That is business between myself and your lord," Lantash answered smoothly, looking down straight into her eyes. "Am I to assume that you are the Commander Coron I seek?"

"Yes," answered Sam, finding it difficult to concentrate on what he was saying. He had always looked well in Tok'ra garb, but he wore both the garb and the personality of a Goa'uld with a smoldering intensity that Sam could almost feel. _~Jolinar?~ _The symbiote certainly had it worse off, and only Sam's busy thoughts kept her from noticing exactly what scenarios were running through Jolinar's mind.

"Then I believe I have taken enough haphazard handling at your hands," Lantash said, settling back on his heels with a slight look of disgust. "Do you have any concept of the idea of respect, or will you keep me standing in this climate?"

_~God, he needs to wear green more often,~ _Sam's thought ran away with her. Then, giving herself a mental shake, she turned to a subordinate. "Keep your eye on this!" she ordered, then turned back to Lantash with a firm look. "I will hear your request at my lord's temple, but I owe you no respect until I know your connection to her."

Lantash said nothing, only flashed his eyes in a look that was both intimidating and teasing. Sam knew that the melting feeling, and the flush coming to her face, was not just from Jolinar. Realizing exactly who she was starting to fantasize about, she hoped that Jolinar was still too distracted to make the same connection, and she turned to lead the way up the hill. What really mattered was—why was he here? How?

It didn't seem to take as long as usual to get up to the temple. Jolinar, caught off guard by her mate in all his glory, only then started to descend from a cloud of distracted lust enough to realize that Sam had been trying to keep all the pieces together. _*I beg pardon.*_

_~No, I understand,~ _was all that Sam answered. And thankfully Jolinar didn't seem to realize that it wasn't just imagined sympathy, but something much closer and fresher, even if to a lesser extent.

At the top of the steps, Sam ordered the Jaffa guards in the main court to take up position outside, leaving her with Lantash for a more private audience. As soon as all Jaffa and slaves were out of the way, she turned and hissed to him: "What the hell?"

"Have I disrupted your plans?" Lantash asked, almost cheeky, but the hint of a frown on his face. His voice, low in the wide shady court, did not carry far.

"What are you doing here?" Sam pressed, wanting to get straight to the point. Any longer with this teasing, and she'd fall back into shallower thoughts—especially with Jolinar's thoughts still striving to climb out of the gutter.

His face was all seriousness. "We had a thought, Martouf and I, and we spoke to Council once you were gone. We did not think you would be able to establish yourself with enough speed, and even then you might not have the correct access. We offered ourselves to try to gain a closer look at Quetesh's court, at her plans."

_*A spy?* _Jolinar wondered, her mind now completely on Sam's level. _*But they have not done so for many, many years.*_

"And?" Sam asked, not knowing what else.

"And," Lantash said, moving his tall frame a little closer to them, almost towering. "And we found that Coron was not only well-established, but had been so for quite some time." He enunciated the last few words, the buzz of the symbiote voice adding even more weight. "Quite." His look was grave.

_~They guessed,_~ Sam said.

_*And now they know. I should have foreseen this. Here, let me carry on.*_

Despite the fact that she could not change her voice to be less like Sam's, both of them knew that Lantash could tell the difference as soon as Jolinar took control. "Do you consider your purpose complete, then?" she asked.

"Not in the least," said Lantash, moving even closer to her. "Jolinar, there was never a lead. You had this revenge plot planned from the moment Samantha reminded you of Quetesh."

"So I did, to some extent," Jolinar said, looking him directly in the eye to keep her eyes from wandering to the flattering cut of his robes. She could be professional, it was just difficult when caught off guard by the one person who could instantly spark heated sensations in her.

"And you thought deception was the way to deal with this?" Lantash pushed. Jolinar saw the glint in his eyes, the near-glow of strong emotion. He was angry with her, frustrated and disappointed.

"Samantha and I made a promise, not only to each other," said Jolinar. "And we hold that higher than anything else."

"But the Tok'ra do not, and as you are not disowning them," he trailed off, but the sharpness in his tone suggested an unspoken 'yet'.

"They would not have known," said Jolinar. "And they approved the mission, so there would be no harm."

"You can't live like this," Lantash protested, reaching out to grip her shoulder. His touch was distracting, but Jolinar kept her gaze tightly matching his. "Lies only provide good results for a time, and even then there is damage. This is yet another secret you were to keep from us. For how long?"

"Until all was finished," Jolinar said. She glanced around, making sure that they were still alone. "Lantash, you would not have approved, and in doing so you would have broken Sha're's heart, and Samantha's along with it, and I could not have remained whole with that. After all that is happened, you would have had me do that to her?"

Lantash frowned, but there was no tenseness in his answer. "Did you think of another way? Or did you leap for the easy route, even though it was deception?"

Jolinar didn't answer. Her eyes darted down for a second as she did not know what to say next. _*We knew it was a mistake all along, did we not?*_

_~In some way, yes. But we could justify it. I—I don't know if that was truly good enough for either of us, though.~_

"Either way was fraught with pain," Jolinar finally answered, no defense in her tone as she looked back up into Lantash's eyes. "We were not blind to that."

He nodded briefly, with a short sigh. His hand on her shoulder loosened, stroking instead of gripping. "We did not come to fight," he said, "but to help."

"So you will continue with the mission?" Jolinar asked. Both she and Sam assumed that it had been a ruse to be able to confront them.

Lantash nodded. "Despite ulterior motives, Martouf would not have agreed to this had we not had purer ones underneath. And as usual, I could not deny his reasoning."

"So you will attempt to infiltrate Quetesh's court," Jolinar clarified, her hands unclenching from her side as she crossed her arms loosely across her chest armor.

"It has been a long time since I took on such a role—I believe it will be worth it," Lantash answered.

"You most certainly look the part," Jolinar said, a small smile as she looked him up and down one last time. She didn't seem to notice that she was not the only one to find him more than attractive with this look.

Lantash leaned in, matching her look. "I'd say that your approval was the only one I wished for, but you understand that duty calls for more..."

"I think you will find success comes easily," Jolinar said, with a last nod. She licked her lips, glancing back. But she couldn't afford a kiss, not when so much depended on these guises. So she bit down her desire, leaving it smoldering in her eyes.

"Then all is settled," said Lantash comfortably. "And all the Tok'ra will know is that they have two operatives deep in the field."

Jolinar shook her head, thinking of the complications, and how unlikely this all was to happen in this way. Then she sighed and nodded once. "What are you calling yourself?"

"Tirnin," Lantash said.

"Then Tirnin," Jolinar said, stepping back and lifting her chin, her voice cooling as she became Coron. "I believe my lord would wish to speak with you. You will be directed to her court."

Lantash was as Tirnin once again, the wicked gleam in his eyes matched only by the firm resolve on his face. "Then I will congratulate Quetesh on the efficiency of her servants."

And neither Sam nor Jolinar could fully understand what this all meant at the moment. All they knew for sure was, it felt good to have someone close who knew almost all. And—Martouf and Lantash had never been so attractive before.

ooooooo

"This is insane," Jean repeated, taking a seat in the mess hall just in case she fainted. They'd come full circle back to Level 28, only to have Jean need to withdraw.

"Rodney, she needs something to eat," said Kaleb, sitting by his wife and putting a hand on her shoulder.

To Daniel's surprise, Mckay went straight off to get something. He wondered if it was because, unlike his wife, Kaleb hadn't called the scientist Meredith. Meredith Rodney Mckay. Daniel wasn't sure he'd get over that any time soon.

Jean rested her head in her hand until Mckay came back, a bowl of blue jello in his hand. "Blue, Mer?" she asked skeptically.

"Oh what, you don't like it?" he asked.

"It's fine," she muttered, taking a bite and swallowing. She breathed out again.

"Sorry about that," Daniel said, sitting next to Kaleb at the table. "It's a bit overwhelming."

"Overwhelming?" Jean asked, a lot of emotion in that one word. "Earth is almost destroyed on a regular basis by aliens, what should I be feeling?" 

"Not regular," said Mckay, a slight weariness in his tone.

"It's mostly about exploring peaceful worlds," Daniel agreed.

"You're both insane," Jean said firmly. "All of you here, actually. I mean, you have all this technology, and you still go out looking for danger—there's enough here to last you all several lifetimes already."

"Maybe," said Mckay reluctantly, sharing a glance with Daniel.

"But it's not just about us, it's about the generations to come," said Daniel, still persuasive.

Jean half-laughed through a mouthful of jello. "Just be glad you only have to explain that to me, not the billions of people this is a secret to."

"What does that mean?" asked Mckay.

She swallowed the jello and took a deep breath and let it out before speaking. "Oh, just that I'm more easily swayed by the amazing science than the average rational person. This place is just—it leaves me speechless." She gestured vaguely with her hand.

"Glad you came?" asked Mckay, a little smug. Daniel noticed he'd forgotten that he'd been against her arrival only a few hours before.

"Maybe," she said carefully. She glanced down at her jello. "You know, Rodney, this stuff isn't too bad."

Daniel smiled to himself. Not only had she used Mckay's name, which was probably a good sign, but he saw her defenses waver.

"So, you have a family here?" Jean asked, changing the subject slightly. "How does that work, exactly, if you're locked up in a mountain doing things you can't talk about?"

Oh yes, she was almost ready to sign up. Daniel was just about ready to claim this recruit as a success.

ooooooo

Jolinar fell asleep before Sam that night, and Sam breathed out in relief. They'd gone over the surprising events of the day, trying to make it fit into their plan. Martouf and Lantash had surprised them, in more ways than one, and the extra support needed a little to get used to. But that part was pretty easy in the end—in fact, it was good.

What Jolinar didn't seem to notice was what Sam tried not to think of. That was the goal of course, but Sam was surprised she'd succeeded. It was the first time since the blending that she realized it might be more complicated than she thought. It wasn't the lack of privacy—and yet it was.

Jolinar's feelings for Martouf and Lantash had been powerful on first sight, but Sam hadn't been without an instant reaction of her own. Physical, but also emotional. How had it happened so fast? How did she care this much that her heart almost fluttered when they looked down at her with those eyes? This was Jolinar's mate she was talking about, someone who was supposed to share Jolinar only with the one who would be bound to her for life.

And that wasn't Sam, not really. She wasn't going to be around that long, and so she had no claim on them, despite being so close to Jolinar. Sam now realized how that fact would probably hurt her. She was falling in love, unintentionally, and it had been slow in coming but sure in the end. She didn't know how to stop it—and her heart was telling her she didn't want to.

But her mind kept telling her that it was unfair to Jolinar, unfair to Martouf and Lantash, to intrude like this. She shouldn't allow herself to do this to any of them. If she could just bury her feelings, avoid thinking those thoughts, the mission would be over soon enough. She hoped. And Jolinar need never know that Sam had accidentally committed herself too much.


	55. Worklife

**Chapter 54 - Worklife**

Daniel wasn't surprised when a package arrived at the SGC containing Jean and Kaleb Miller's application for full security clearance. Following was a short email, saying that Jean was willing to try out work there, for a year at least. Then she'd see.

Mckay didn't take it as well as Daniel. He looked uncomfortable at the thought of actually working with his sister as an equal. Jack snorted when he heard about it, and told him to get over it. And Clara Dixon, who had stopped by the base that day, declared that this called for another team night out. Another barbecue at their house, in honor of the Millers' arrival, and Sha're's and Shifu's as well.

"I'm the only one who's still single," muttered Mckay. "Why did I ever join this team?"

"We can try to match you up if you like," said Clara brightly.

"No, I don't think that's necessary," Mckay countered quickly.

Knowing that Mckay had meant Jack's former family life, the conversation reminded Daniel of Jack's talk with Sara O'Neill. He wondered if, like Mckay, Jack was feeling some kind of pull towards family. He also wondered if it would be possible for Teal'c's family to come to the SGC, and would Teal'c even want that? But Teal'c didn't speak of it, and appeared content, so Daniel let it lie.

There was too much else going on in his life anyways. Just as he thought he was getting into a good routine with his wife and son, Shifu had turned into the terror Sha're insisted he had always been. He stopped sleeping at night, seemingly, and Daniel found himself pacing in the hallways late at night, his nightshirt getting soaked with infant tears, worn beyond belief. Sha're had no sympathy, which Daniel supposed was reasonable given what she'd endured without him, but slightly irking all the same.

An interesting bit of news rolled around the SGC, about how there had possibly been a rogue group who were using the second Stargate for their own purposes. During the crack-down on security, the gate had been transfered away and discovered to be a plastic replica—the real gate was swiftly found, but there was no evidence on what might have been going on. Daniel thought about how he had almost planned to use the gate to leave Earth, if the SGC was shut down. Now that was impossible, and it was good that he had no reason any more.

A couple days later, Jean and Kaleb came back for a longer visit. Clare Tobias came to thank Daniel personally, eyes alight with excitement, for bringing Dr. Miller into the fold. "She's brilliant!" Clare said, hands providing emphasis. "And she bugs Mckay, so that's a plus."

"Are they going to be okay?" Daniel asked.

Clare shrugged. "Well, Mckay's not going to give in and be driven away, and she's just stubborn enough not to let him do the same to her. I think her curiosity's definitely peaked; you should have seen her look when she went over Carter's old gate schematics."

Daniel nodded. "Good."

"That being said," Clare added, leaning against the doorframe. "You might want to figure out a way to get her offworld today. I think Mckay needs a little time to adjust."

"I was going to take Sha're and Shifu to New Abydos," said Daniel. "I'm sure I could get the General's permission for the Millers to come."

"Just Jean, actually," said Clare. "Kaleb's looking into applications at nearby schools. Did you know he's an English teacher?"

"It's a shame we don't have a place for him here," Daniel commented.

Jean was no anthropologist, and heat made her flush bright red, but New Abydos turned out to be a perfect first start. She'd been surprised when he offered for her to come along, and only really agreed when Sha're added her approval. Daniel didn't tell her it was partly to separate her from her brother, who looked thoroughly relieved when he heard the plan.

"So are you and Dr. Jackson going to live on base forever?" Jean asked as they returned from the gate. The Abydonians had been ecstatic over the return of Sha're, who promptly established that yes, she would be their leader, but Adros would carry her role in her absence. And only until the day when Kasuf returned. Daniel wasn't sure if she believed that, or just used it for the Abydonians' benefit.

"I hope not," Sha're answered, shifting Shifu in her arms. "This place would be too dangerous for us. But until your government grants me approval, it is not my choice."

Jean nodded. "I hope to have a family someday, but the hours are killers here, from all I've heard. And especially if my family was off-base."

"Yes, that is a benefit now," said Sha're, turning to grin at Daniel. "I may steal my husband whenever I need him."

"Mostly," Daniel said.

ooooooo

Martouf had made brief contact a day after leaving the planet, just long enough to tell Jolinar that his mission looked to be successful. Taking the opportunity, Jolinar told him about the plan that she and Sam had contrived, about possibly using the Jaffa in the future. There was no time to discuss, but Martouf did not look completely opposed when the conversation ended.

As if knowing what was crossing her mind, that night, they encountered a lone slave far from any other Jaffa on the planet. Jolinar was immediately surprised and suspicious.

"Why are you not in your quarters?" she demanded.

_~It's an Abydonian,~ _Sam commented, equally surprised.

"Kasuf let us know what you said," the slave said boldly, almost as an attack.

That in itself was astounding, both that Kasuf had managed to trick his ever-present guards and that this slave would dare be so froward. "What do you speak of?" Jolinar asked with well-played disgust.

"He says you claim to be on our side," the slave whispered. "He does not believe it, but some of us do."

Sam and Jolinar were stopped in their tracks, unsure what had just happened or what should happen next. "Your mind has fractured, slave," Jolinar said. "Return to your place before I have you dealt with!"

The slave only paused a second before darting off into the night.

_~Well, that was a bit conspicuous,~ _said Sam. _~Now he knows for sure that something's up.~_

_*If they believe we're on their side, they will not report us willingly. It was the only option.*_

_~Yeah, that happens a lot, unfortunately.~_

_*We will be fine.*_

ooooooo

Daniel never expected that team night would ever be like this. Last time it had been just a visit to the Dixons; now, it was like a family picnic, except it was work. And that was something Daniel would never have considered when first arriving at the SGC.

Clara and Dave's kids were at a friend's house that night, but the atmosphere was still communal. Daniel and Sha're had brought Shifu with them, for they were guests of honor according to Clara with a broad grin, and he was relatively quiet for them that evening. Jean and Kaleb were the other guests, and they arrived shortly before Mckay, who came from the SGC in Teal'c's vehicle looking a bit stunned. Daniel didn't know Teal'c knew how to drive, but apparently, despite Mckay's declarations to the contrary, he did.

"Where is Colonel O'Neill?" Teal'c asked, as Mckay immediately found the food table. Sha're, more comfortable lower than higher, sat on a blanket on the grass with Shifu in her lap, and Teal'c joined her in a cross-legged pose. Daniel sat in a higher seat next to Sha're, and across from him were Jean and Kaleb sharing a double-seat.

"Oh, he said he was bringing a guest, someone who wanted to meet the team," said Clara, bringing over a couple more chairs to the arrangement in their back lawn. "Knowing him, I didn't think it was necessary to confirm that they had clearance."

"Jack has friends?" Mckay asked through a mouthful of potato salad. He only ever called him that when he wasn't around.

Dixon snorted, in disagreement but appreciating Mckay's jab all the same. He lounged in a low seat, hands behind head and shades over his eyes.

"Ah, look, he's almost on time," said Clara, glancing over their shoulders.

Daniel turned his head, and was only slightly surprised to recognized the cropped dark-gold hair of Sara Henderson O'Neill.

"Welcome, welcome," said Clara, wiping her hands on the seat of her jeans as she walked over to greet Sara. "You must be Sara."

"Sara Henderson, yes," she answered. She glanced briefly to Jack, and he had already found a seat and was gesturing for her to take it. "I don't know any of you," she said, looking around the group, "but Jack and I—we go back."

"Completely understood, ma'am," said Dixon genially, sitting up and pulling up his shades to give her a friendly nod.

Sara grinned, nodding to everyone as she took a seat. "Well, Jack, you didn't say your team was this large."

"Oh, this is a bit more than the team," said Jack.

"Here, I'll do the honors," said Dixon. "I'm Dixon, probably known to you as 'snarky jackass' if Jack's been talking. This is Clara, my wife, who does not work at the SGC." He gestured with his hand around the circle. "That's Jackson, our historical go-to guy and general negotiator. Teal'c is the big guy on the ground, and that's Sha're, who's married to Jackson, and that's their son Shi-shi."

"Shifu," said Sha're pointedly. Dixon just grinned.

"So you're the Sha're he talks about," said Sara brightly, looking to Sha're.

"I do not know if I am _the_ Sha're," Sha're said with a friendly smile, pausing to remove the bit of grass from Shifu's hand. "But I am the only one I know."

"It's good to get a face to the name," said Sara warmly.

Daniel was a bit surprised that Jack had talked about these things at all with Sara, though he supposed they were kind of important in the team's shared past.

"The guy hogging the food table is Rodney Mckay," said Dixon. Mckay barely glanced up, absently waving a hand in welcome.

"Oh yes, I remember him," said Sara.

Daniel smiled at her tone.

"And we're not on the team," Jean offered, Kaleb's arm across her shoulders, one leg crossed over the other. "But I'm the unfortunate sister of the food hog, and a bit new to the whole Stargate thing in the first place. This is my husband Kaleb, who has pretty much nothing to do with it, except putting up with my exultation." She glanced up at Kaleb, who smiled and tactfully said nothing, which made her playfully nudge his side with one elbow.

"Quite a group," said Sara. "Jack made it sound a bit sparser."

"That's because he can't remember half our names anyway," commented Mckay, his back turned to them as he finished serving up a plate of the barbecue food.

"As if you can," Dixon retorted.

"Suck-up," Jack commented to his 2IC, a wry twist to his mouth.

"I wasn't supporting you, I was correcting him," Dixon answered.

"Sure you weren't," Jack answered.

"Sha're, you've barely said a word," Clara offered, taking a seat next to her husband and inconspicuously taking his sunglasses and storing them in her shirt pocket. "Don't you know that this party is half for you?"

"I am doing just fine," Sha're said, looking up. "Shifu is plenty of entertainment."

"How old is he?" asked Sara curiously, leaning over in her chair.

"Almost two months," Sha're answered. "But it almost feels like a lifetime."

"He's very cute," said Sara appreciatively. "May I hold him?"

"Please do," Sha're answered.

Sara came over, sitting down on the blanket and scooping up Shifu. He was in a diaper and a loose tan t-shirt, with drool all down the front.

"Aw, ain't you just the sweetest little thing," Sara crooned, her tone changing.

Daniel glanced to Jack, wondering if this was bringing back painful memories. But he didn't look more than vaguely interested at all, instead watching as Dixon started wadding up pieces of the napkin Clara had given him with his plate, and prepared to toss them at the obliviously munching Mckay.

"How old are your kids, Clara?" Sara asked.

"8, 5, and 2," Clara said. "Terrors all."

Sara managed to smile with only a hint of pain in it. "Yeah, I can imagine."

"Daniel?" Jean asked, a bemused look on her face. "I'm not going to say I was wrong, but this is not what I was expecting from a bunch of people involved in a conspiracy."

"It is kind of odd, isn't it?" commented Sara, the thought dawning on her.

"What, that we've got families?" Dixon asked, feeling around for his sunglasses with a slight frown, while Clara pretended not to notice.

"I didn't think that would be possible," said Jean.

"It's not easy," said Dixon emphatically. "I mean, you go to the wilds of other worlds in the day, and then come home to the wilds of kids."

"But it works," said Jean, looking thoughtful. "That's something to be said."

Daniel nudged Sha're's arm with the edge of his bare foot, and she looked up, seeing his smile and answering it. Daniel was starting to like the idea of melding job and family. It was changing the feel of SG-1, but for the better.

The evening wore on, and Kaleb proved to Dixon that even English professors could know how to barbecue hamburgers, and then had an awkward moment of not knowing whether to chuckle or be in awe that Teal'c could barbecue better than Jack. Daniel just watched the antics, while Mckay surreptitiously watched everything his sister was saying. And Shifu hardly felt the arms of his mother the whole night, what with Jean and Sara and even Clara all over him.

By the time evening was turning into summer night, Sha're was tired and nearly falling asleep leaned against Daniel's chair. Daniel, caught up in a heated but amiable argument over dictionaries with Kaleb and Mckay (due to a Scrabble dispute), only noticed when Shifu started to fuss. It was late, and so he said his goodbyes, and took his family home. It was only as Sha're joined him in bed, settled into his arms and breathed out in a happy but weary sigh, that he realized that home meant the SGC. Work and family were perhaps too closely entwined, but he didn't mind now.

ooooooo

"Hold yourselves!" Jolinar ordered, descending upon the furious Jaffa with no heat in her voice. "Your conduct is unworthy of our god Quetesh."

A gravel cart blocked the road, three slaves standing by. One cowered, as a Jaffa stood over him, but the two others looked almost defiant. The Jaffa looked Jolinar in the eye, simmering frustration all over his face.

"These slaves who were not transfered are useless," he almost spat out. "And it is to the point where they should be executed for sabotage."

"That is not your call," said Jolinar coolly. "Neither is it your call to lose your temper; it is poor sign of worth if you cannot control slaves without resorting to such tactics."

"My lord," the other Jaffa broke in. "It is only with these slaves, the ones who have not been here a while."

Jolinar glanced back to the slaves before eyeing the Jaffa. Of course, they were Abydonians. Kasuf might have done his work, sparking this—both the woman and the man barely lowered their eyes from meeting Jolinar's.

"And you are so inferior to them that they are beyond your leadership?" Jolinar demanded.

The Jaffa said nothing and clenched his jaw.

"If I find that you mistreat them because of your own shortcomings, I swear, it is you who will deal with punishment," Jolinar said in a low tone, looking them both in the eye. Then she turned and glared at the slaves. "Move this cart," she said in a low tone. Then, with another turn, she walked past them and down the road.

_~So, they're starting to revolt now,~ _Sam summed it up with a sigh.

_*And there is yet another reason to add posthumously to our list of reasons not to tell Kasuf.*_

_~Yeah, well, best laid plans and all. It could be a start, though. If Martouf and Lantash agree to our plan of slowly recruiting the Jaffa, then we need them to be open to newer ideas. Getting them to treat the Abydonians, and everyone else for that matter, like people and not lower beings—well, it may not be a big influence, but it at least lets us know who we're dealing with. We'll need a place to start, and it's not with the ruthless bullies.~_

_*As long as we are careful not to lose even a morsel of respect.*_

_~Yes, yes, it's delicate. Everything is. What you said—we'll be fine.~_

ooooooo

"Well?" Daniel asked, hands typing on his lab's computer as the phone was tucked between chin and shoulder.

"_I told you, I can't get anything out of that tape," _Mckay's voice came, the tinniness diluting his annoyance more than Daniel would have expected. _"It's just that silly language."_

"It's like what we found on that planet, though," said Daniel. "You know, the genetic experimentation."

"_No, actually, I'd forgotten about the near-death experience that still plagues my existence. Thanks for the reminder, Jackson."_

"Just think of all the technology that could be there," Daniel insisted. "You have to help me get Hammond to let SG-1 check it out personally—I don't trust anyone else to know what to look for. I've been poring over Ernest's records, not to mention the ones from the Alteran planet."

"_Do I hear heavy breathing?"_

Daniel frowned, pausing. "What?" Then he heard it. He glanced down, having forgotten that Shifu was sleeping in the sling across his chest. "Oh, that's just Shifu."

"_You have him in your lab?" _Mckay's tone was incredulous. _"Jackson, do you want him to catch some ancient virus from one of the artifacts?"_

"There wouldn't be anything airborne, we make sure of that," Daniel said, slightly rolling his eyes. "And he's not touching anything." In the moment when Mckay didn't have an answer, Daniel did realize that it probably appeared a little odd considering his previous overprotectiveness.

"_I just don't see the point."_

"Okay, consider this," Daniel grasped for a final point. "The room's entirely closed, from what the MALP can see. No vents, no doors, nothing but the gate. But perfect oxygen levels. Aren't you the least bit curious about that?"

A sigh hissed across the phone line.

"Thank you, Rodney," Daniel said, hanging up before the man could change his mind.

ooooooo

"I promise, sir, this circle of symbols that the MALP sent back is in the same language as the people who modified that whole planet," said Daniel at the briefing the next day. Hammond had been just as skeptical as Mckay, even with Jack's support of finding more of that 'meaning of life stuff' like on Ernest's planet. "It may not look like much, but advanced technology has a way of being surprising."

It was the last argument needed. The mission was quickly approved due to the extreme lack of danger in the small room that housed the Stargate and this strange circle, and by the time Daniel realized just how excited he was about the prospect of learning more Alteran, it was the next day and the team was getting ready for a mission.

Daniel had just kissed Sha're and Shifu goodbye as he left the infirmary, Janet having cleared him. As he buckled his utility belts, walking into the team locker room to grab his weapon (which protocol said he should carry no matter what), Dixon said what he was about to think.

"Whole team again, real mission," Dixon said. "This is good."

"Well, given our luck, it'll be an intergalactic waste of time," said Jack with a slight sight and gesture. "But sure, the upper ranks need reminding on how elegantly we do that."

Mckay gave a Daniel a look, but they said nothing as the team walked to the gate room.

The event horizon kawooshed, and they were through the gate before Daniel had finished thinking just how amazing it was to go through with no overarching agenda.

The other gate led them into nothing particularly exciting. Just as the MALP had revealed, the room was small and had no exits. They all glanced around, wondering if something would happen. Something didn't.

"So, what grand technology should I be looking for, Jackson?" Mckay asked, a hint of Jack in his tone.

"What's the point of this room?" Dixon asked. "I mean, is it some kind of test for people who come through the gate, that they have to pass to get through to the real planet?"

"Where's the power coming from?" Daniel murmured. Mckay lit up a bit at that, and ventured a few steps. He crossed the circle of symbols in the center of the floor, and they lit with a soft glow.

"Oh, that's something," Mckay said, leaning down.

Jack slightly rolled his eyes, walking a few steps and kicking at the edge of the circle with his foot. "You sure?"

There was a clicking sound, and they all glanced up. Out of the smooth wall, a rounded console popped for.

"Whoa!" Jack said, now just as interested as the rest of them.

"Let me see what exactly this says," Daniel said, kneeling down by the circle. Perhaps it explained what this all meant if he could read between the lines. Or just read the lines—he wasn't that comfortable with this language yet.

Mckay, no longer interested in the way the floor lit up, was much more curious about this console. Teal'c walked to it first, though, and glanced into it the face-shaped opening at its front.

"Hey, watch it!" Mckay said. Then, after barely a pause, "What do you see?"

"Blackness," Teal'c said, one eyebrow raised unimpressed. "And colored lights."

"Not a password input device, then," Mckay muttered, one theory apparently squashed.

"A light show?" Jack asked, stepping beside Teal'c. Daniel glanced back to see him frown and, like a child finding something shiny, stick his face right up next to it.

"Holy shit!" shouted Dixon a moment later, and Daniel's eyes flew back to see that the console had reached out of the wall and gripped onto Jack's head.

Suddenly Daniel remembered that they were SG-1, and intergalactic wastes of time weren't their thing. The console had just come out of nowhere, huge and black, but its design was definitely Alteran and not Goa'uld. Jack struggled in its grip as lights flashed brightly from the gaps around his face, but none of them dared to do anything, only partly because they had no idea what to do.

It was only a few moments, and then suddenly it let go, and Jack fell to the floor with a thud.

"Dial the gate, Mckay," Dixon snapped, stooping to scoop up Jack. Teal'c got the Colonel's other side, and Daniel glanced around the room for something else that might be about to attack.

They hadn't done anything, right? It had just attacked out of nowhere, like a living thing, but it was obviously tech. Whatever the case, Jack wasn't moving. Mckay had the gate dialed in a few seconds, and the gateroom beckoned.

"Med team!" Dixon called, as he and Teal'c carried the unconscious Jack down the ramp and towards the infirmary.

Their first real mission in weeks, and this was what they got. Daniel would have got the irony if he hadn't been already sick with worry. Janet's face didn't help as the team made it to the infirmary.

"Get him into the MRI," the doctor ordered, brow creased. "And all of you? There's nothing you can do, so just wait outside." They wheeled Jack off on a stretcher, as still as if he had never woken this morning, face slack and pale. And the team just stood.

"God, why _Jack_?" Dixon sighed, frustration in his voice and the way he took a seat.

Daniel looked to Mckay, who looked just slightly sick. Janet might need help with this one. With a silent nod, the two men left the infirmary, and prepared to gather what information they could. If the worse case scenario was true, Janet would need them.


	56. Steps

**Chapter 55 - Steps**

Martouf and Lantash first checked in on Dorieth a couple days later, dropping to the planet in a cloaked cargo ship.

"What are the risks of this?" Jolinar asked immediately, as she met them outside the settlement in the dark.

"Nothing extreme," Martouf said, his voice quiet in the humid evening.

"Your mission?" Jolinar asked next, as they drew out of the way into the dark shelter of a small grove. Even the stars couldn't see them, if the clouds had been drawn back for the stars to have sight.

Martouf sighed, his stance loosening, and Jolinar realized that it had been a little tense. It was not relaxed now, though, only weary.

Jolinar sighed in answer. "You were not prepared."

"The mission goes as planned," said Martouf. "But you are correct, I did not expect the toll." He grimaced.

_~He isn't really spy material, I'm thinking?~ _Sam asked, sensing from him a frustration with injustice that only Jolinar's experience had soothed in Sam.

_*His integrity is more reliant on what he does than who he is, than most Tok'ra operatives. We have had to make ourselves more than the role, simply because the role is—*_

_~Yeah, I know that by now.~_

"I have already achieved some level of trust," Martouf continued. "But not enough. It is to be expected, because I can say for a fact now that Quetesh is no fool—but I wonder if we will ever succeed far enough in that area."

Jolinar shrugged. "As long as you are in a steady position, we may work around any other difficulties."

"Such is Lantash's reasoning," said Martouf with a nod. He sighed, his hands falling to his sides, almost clenching, his gaze dropping slightly. "I have found some of Sha're's people."

Sam perked up, and Jolinar tried not to show that she was very interested in this. As far as Martouf and Lantash knew, she only cared about them due to her friendship with Sha're. He still hadn't guessed the rescue mission. "And?" Jolinar asked.

Martouf's look darkened, and he didn't look them in the eye. Sam felt unsure for a moment if she wanted to know why. "Even when, or if, Quetesh is eventually defeated, it may be too late for some. Their treatment at the hands of Jaffa is nothing compared to the pleasures Quetesh forces upon them."

"Too late?" Jolinar asked, as her stomach twisted with the same emotion that gripped Sam.

"I fear that Quetesh knows how to damage the mind too deeply," Martouf said, barely able to form the words. A burning anger lit his eyes, something that was usually Lantash's, and his jaw clenched. "At times her flagship seems but a brothel to her perversions."

Jolinar's anger broiled, and she nodded sharply. "We must accomplish this mission, Martouf. I have known this for some time."

"As I do now," he said, nodding. "I should not have doubted you ever." He managed a weak smile. "And do not worry, for I can see that you do—Lantash and I will maintain our cover."

"I had not truly doubted it," Jolinar said.

With one last glance to make sure that the darkness still covered them, Martouf stooped to plant a quick kiss on Jolinar's lips, and then the two parted. The ship cloaked and disappeared in the night, and no one saw Sam and Jolinar return to their dwelling.

ooooooo

"It could have been you," Sha're whispered, worried for them both when Daniel returned to her side. It seemed like only had a few minutes to contemplate that he had a similar fear, and hold Sha're close and wish that they all weren't playing luck too many times.

But when he looked at the clock, it had almost been an hour. Even though Janet's message told him that Jack was awake and fine, Daniel couldn't help but say gingerly as he walked to O'Neill's bedside, "Jack?"

The man groaned, sitting on the edge of the bed, still in his rumpled BDUs.

"His pupils are fine," said Janet, more to Daniel than Jack, something that always pissed Jack off a little. "As is his pulse, and frankly, everything else. Now that he's conscious and himself, he's fine."

"Yes, 'he' is great," said Jack shortly. "Don't remember a thing, but that may be great too."

Daniel breathed out, crossing his arms loosely over his chest. "So it wasn't a weapon." He scratched his head. "Mckay and I were going over the data, but we can't figure anything out."

"Still," came Mckay's voice. Daniel turned, and saw Dixon and Mckay coming in together.

"You found anything yet?" Daniel asked Mckay curiously.

"In the ten minutes since you last checked up?" Mckay said, one eyebrow rising Teal'cishly. "No."

"We're trying to figure out what that thing was," Daniel explained to Jack. "So far...not so great."

"Does it matter?" Jack asked, getting off the bed.

Daniel frowned. "Well, yes."

"Don't you want to know why it grabbed your head?" Dixon asked, arms crossed as they walked toward the door.

"I am more intrigued by my escape from it," Teal'c said from behind.

"Yeah, what he said," Mckay added. 

"Can we please just get the briefing over with?" Jack asked, slightly irritated.

So, he didn't want to talk. Mckay shrugged, and Daniel followed them out, knowing that Jack couldn't keep him from being curious.

ooooooo

"The insubordination is insanity!" hissed Sheryen, one of the Jaffa who patrolled the fields below the temple.

The Abydonians had not fallen into line, and Jolinar and Sam tried slowly to make that less dangerous for them. Sheryen, one of the most volatile, something which had prompted Sam to promote him for her own safety, was the first obstacle.

"As is my continual tolerance of your behavior," Sam answered, letting one eye glare at him. They stood alone, a few steps off from the nearest path, the Abydonians he had been ready to strike already back at their work by her command. "You do not seem to understand that it would take time and effort to beat them into submission, and given that they are beings who would not appreciate it, the success might not be complete."

"I did not expect you to give up," Sheryen said, bordering on insubordinate, but his surprise genuine.

Sam stood a little closer, staring him down. Her words were quiet and slow. "Do not be foolish and waste all that has been accomplished here. If they think they are worthy beings, treat them so, but do not hold back on their expected workload."

"Jaffa do not degrade ourselves such with slaves," Sheryen answered, spitting the last word out even as his voice sunk to her level.

Sam let her eyes almost drift past him, coldly observing the work of the people he was bound to watch. "Jaffa do what their god demands of them," she said icily, staring him full on in the eyes again. "No matter the costs."

"And if they realize that we are becoming soft?" Sheryen demanded.

Jolinar almost gave Sam a hint that Sheryen was pushing it, but one look had the Jaffa backing down his posture just a little. No, they didn't need to be drastic with him yet. "If you are so incompetent as to let them see your foolishness in believing that this is weakness, then I will have no choice but to remove your position from you."

And Sheryen turned away first, breaking the contact. Submitting himself, maybe with a little doubt about his own opinion being right. It was a first step.

ooooooo

Daniel groaned and rubbed at his eyes. After Jack's nervous behavior at the briefing, which made sense given that no one had any clue what had happened to him after being 'head-sucked' by the alien device, he'd been sent to some down time. And Daniel had been sent to work.

He already had a general understanding of the Alteran language, thanks to the translations he and Dr. Jordan had made using the Asgard as cipher back on the world with the killer trees. Daniel paused at that thought, remembering for the first time in a while that Sam would know the exact designation, but he'd been around Mckay for weeks, and of all the areas of science that were important to Mckay, nomenclature wasn't one of them. And 'killer-tree-planet' was just as functional, in the end. Anyways, while there was so much he didn't understand, basic translation was well within his grasp.

Except translation only worked when you had a context for the results, and Daniel wasn't sure he did. Advanced cultures didn't think of things in terms of "device that sucks heads", nor did they talk about them in terms of a society that couldn't even understand how or why the device distinguished between Teal'c, Mckay, and Jack. If, after all, that ring on the floor had been completely tied to the device.

With that in mind, Daniel knew he needed an intuitive mind for science to guess about the minds of an advanced culture. Mckay was the first on his list, possibly unsurprisingly.

"This is not working," Mckay said from across the desk, enunciating each word clearly. "I don't understand linguistics. I don't care to. You're supposed to tell me what it means, not the other way around."

Daniel groaned again. He downed a gulp of coffee, even though he knew it wouldn't help. "Just—just try to think of your theories about the device, what words might be used to describe them, any words at all."

"It might help if I had theories, if I'd been given enough time to come up with them," Mckay said, looking away from Daniel's notes.

"You always have theories; that's why you work here," Daniel said with a pointed look. "Now come on, Mckay, 'place of our legacy'..."

"All right, what the hell is going on with me?"

Both men jumped as Jack stormed into the lab, arms crossed, eyes alight with fear and anger. Teal'c was close behind.

"What do you mean?" Daniel asked, adjusting his glasses and frowning.

"Well, apparently I have lost the falatus to speak properly," Jack declared. "That wasn't a joke, I didn't mean to say that."

"ColonelO'Neill has several times now used strange words in place of common ones," Teal'c added.

"Oh," Daniel said, his mind spinning. This was odd, weird, but it was something solid. "Okay, so, what was that word you just used?"

"I believe it was falatus," said Teal'c.

"Okay, so fitting with the almost Latin-like structure of Alteran," Daniel mused, making sure he wasn't jumping too quickly to the conclusion, "and that faculatus is Latin for 'ability', I think you're speaking Alteran, Jack."

Jack wasn't looking at him. He stared at the monitor where the circle of symbols was displayed. "Nou ani anquietas."

Daniel blinked. "Wait, what?"

Jack said again, "Nou ani anquietas. Hic qua videum."

A strange worry and excitement filled Daniel. "You're reading that?"

"I don't know, you tell me!" Jack demanded, looking very uncomfortable.

"This has got to mean something," Daniel said, looking to Mckay.

"Okay, okay," said Mckay, snapping his fingers. "So, it's like a translator?"

"Maybe," Daniel said, glancing back to Jack and the monitor. "Yeah, actually, that would make a lot of sense. But why just Jack?"

"That can wait," Mckay said, waving it off. "First we figure out the results, then the why."

"I believe ColonelO'Neill should visit DoctorFrasier again," Teal'c advised.

"That's probably a good idea, Jack," said Daniel. "Especially if we're right." Jack wasn't looking at him, for the second time. "Jack?"

In two short steps, Jack had crossed the floor to Daniel's blackboard, grabbed a piece of chalk, and begun scribbling numbers and lines.

"Wait—whoa," Mckay said. "That's—"

Jack was writing math, of some sort. And without any pause to think, he was just doing it. A few seconds later, he paused.

"So, infirmary," Daniel confirmed, nodding.

Jack, putting the chalk back with a nervous gesture, nodded. He didn't look back as Teal'c led him out of the room.

"That doesn't make any sense," Mckay said, once the room was his and Daniel's again. "Look at that, Jackson—it's a mess."

"Okay, maybe," said Daniel. "I don't really understand normal math, but it's Jack, and he doesn't either as far as I know. So why would he write that?"

"I'm guessing, not a translator," said Mckay. "Unless the Alterans never watched Star Trek and have no clue what a translator is."

"What was that old thing about math being a universal language?" Daniel quipped. Mckay barely gave a sign that he'd heard, and the two went back to work. "Okay, so what did that mean for Jack?"

ooooooo

Daniel knew for sure that time was running short for Jack. First Janet revealed that his brain was operating at a higher rate than normal, then the staff weapon, then the new gate addresses he'd added to the base computer, and now he couldn't even speak except in Alteran.

Or was it Ancient? Daniel had been translating like mad, just as Mckay tried to figure out what Jack was doing with the math and the staff weapon, and apparently the Alterans at some point had called themselves the Ancients. Which nearly blew Daniel's mind, and Dixon, the only one there at the moment of discovery, couldn't understand.

"The Ancient ones, mentioned by the Romans," Daniel said, gesticulating in a wide sweep. "The ones that taught them to build roads. Roads, gates, Stargates, doesn't that make sense?"

"Maybe," Dixon said cautiously. He let the information absorb a few seconds, and Daniel tried to formulate what he could say next. "Whoa—you think they made the Stargates?"

"It could easily be that," Daniel said assuredly. "They definitely have the intelligence—had, I think. That device was their legacy, according to the description. I think Jack downloaded a lot of their knowledge that they left behind."

"Damn," Dixon said, appreciatively.

Daniel only wished the excitement could have stayed. Mckay too, apparently, now that Jack had told him that the math was in base 8, and made so much more sense. But after Janet's announcement that Jack's brain was going to overload with all the data, Daniel was stuck. So was Jack, apparently.

_I have to go through the Stargate_, he had written, but provided no explanation.

Hammond had finally given permission for Mckay to go back to the original planet and examine the device further. Nothing out of the ordinary, except that from Mckay's point of view he was taking a big risk. With Jack's life at stake, though, none of them questioned the value of that risk.

He came back with almost nothing, and as Daniel monitored Jack's progress, Mckay worried away at the data.

"The Gate Builders?" he burst out, after several minutes of silence. "Are idiots."

Daniel was too worried to find that amusingly ironic. "Hmm?"

"First with the gate, now this—would it hurt to make the mechanics of their devices a little more obvious?" Mckay clicked out of a window on the monitor with more force than the mouse called for. "The science almost disappears in the streamlining. Which is impressive, yes, and I'm sure their egos deserved it, but is absolutely idiotic if this is their 'legacy'!"

"So, nothing yet?" Dixon asked, standing at the door.

Daniel frowned, more at what Jack was doing than anything else. "Where's Teal'c?" he asked.

"With Sha're," Dixon said. "He said he thought he would be better suited there, since neither of them offer anything for the Colonel."

Daniel nodded. Sometimes he hated being the one who was supposed to figure out the answers.

"So, you've got nothing," Dixon repeated, looking away from Daniel.

"This science is way beyond what we know," Mckay said with a sigh. "They understood how the brain works, at least enough to get the information in. If I can't even figure out how they did that, there's no way I can get it out."

"No way," Daniel repeated, stomach still sinking low.

"For being technological geniuses, they left a lot of messes," Mckay added. He paused, becoming distracted. "What's he doing?"

Daniel's focus came back to Jack. "Oh," he said. Jack had the pieces of...something...over the table, and was assembling them in a way that Daniel couldn't quite determine. "He's building something."

Mckay snapped his fingers. "That could be good."

"Right, 'cause he's the smartest one here," Dixon said, catching on.

"That's debatable," Mckay said. "But no, the Ancients could have downloaded something that could solve this—give him the cure and the gift, if it was a gift, though I assume they meant it to be."

"Maybe," said Daniel. Just then, Jack stopped working and grabbed his notepad. The team all glanced at each other, and then Jack handed a note to Daniel and went back to work.

"Are we right?" Mckay asked quickly.

Daniel honestly wasn't sure, but it gave him some hope—Jack was there. "I don't know. It says 'shut up and go away'."

"Oookay," Dixon said. "That's probably a good idea, then."

Sighing, Daniel knew that this was probably the only way. In spite of Mckay's genius, Jack might just be the only one who could save himself.

ooooooo

Things finally reached a head.

"Dr. Jackson!" an airman called, walking past him in the hall. "Colonel O'Neill is missing, along with the device."

"Oh shoot," Daniel muttered. No one, not even Jack maybe, had known what he'd created, just that it was cylindrical and probably a power source, given the materials. But he'd demanded to be left alone again, so Daniel was just going to report to Sha're, make sure she was all right. He'd expected that someone would watch Jack. But apparently not.

"He was last seen headed down to the power grid," the airman added, before running past him up towards the control room.

Daniel had another place to go. Hoping Jack knew anything of what he was doing now, he took the last few halls, darted down a couple flights of stairs, and finally found what he was looking for.

"Jack?" he called, seeing the man with his device by the main grid.

"Euge," Jack said without looking at him.

"Good?" Daniel asked, translating.

"Euge."

Daniel was not at all so sure. "Jack, I don't know if this is a good thing." He didn't turn around. "You don't understand me anymore, do you?" It was a rhetorical question, and Daniel just rubbed at the bridge of his nose.

Jack had the device attached, roughly, to the main power. With a switch, he flipped it on, and it began to both hum and glow. Daniel should have been worried, but at this point, he couldn't help but wonder—Jack hadn't done anything that turned out bad so far. This might prove to be similar.

Something compelled Jack, and he ignored Daniel as he ran past. Daniel, heart in a knot but trusting that the Ancients didn't seem to be a malicious race, followed.

"There you are!" called Mckay as they entered the control room. "Do you know what he did?"

"Hooked up some sort of energy device," Daniel said, glancing out the window. The Stargate was spinning, several chevrons already locked. Jack just stood, staring.

"It just started dialing on its own," said Dixon.

"We need to stop this," said Hammond. "Can we turn off the power?"

"Well, yes," said Mckay. "But that may not be a wise choice, given that we have no idea how much energy is being—the gate could overload."

Daniel looked to Jack, but there was nothing to read in his face. Still, though, he wasn't getting a bad feeling yet. "Sir, Jack hasn't done us any harm yet," he said, turning to Hammond. "Can't we trust him on this?"

"Chevron seven..." Dixon said.

"Not encoded," Mckay said, a bit of awe in his tone.

Daniel turned to him. "What?"

"It's dialing another symbol," said Mckay. "And locking. What could possibly—whoa, whoa, whoa!"

Daniel leaned in over the computer, as Mckay swiftly brought up the screen that tracked the address of the gate. "Is that another galaxy?" he asked.

"Yes, yes it is," said Mckay, eyes wide. "And of course, that would require energy, plus another point for distance calculation."

Daniel quickly turned to Hammond, who looked unsure. He decided to let his theory loose; at this point, there was no time for extra thought. "Sir, Jack said he needed to go through the gate earlier, but he didn't say why. Maybe all that he's been doing has been for this purpose—maybe it's what he needs to do."

"You don't know that," said Hammond.

Daniel glanced over to where Jack was heading out of the control room. "Well, I don't have time to know that. Sir, I don't think we have much of a choice."

One of the guards had stopped Jack in his tracks. Hammond nodded, and they let Jack past. Teal'c was waiting in the gate room, staff in hand.

"We think he needs to go through the gate, Teal'c," Daniel called as they followed Jack down.

"Then I will go with him," Teal'c said.

Daniel put up a hand, watching Jack approach the ramp and the shimmering wormhole. "I think he needs to do this alone," he said.

"This had better be the right thing to do," muttered Hammond.

"Wait, without a GDO, he can't come back," said Dixon suddenly.

Daniel looked back at Jack. He stopped, looking Daniel straight in the eye. "He knows he may not be able to come back," said Daniel. There was nothing else to do but take the gamble.

SG-1 and Hammond stood in the gate room, and Daniel watched as Jack walked through the gate to a completely unknown destination.

"We've lost the traveler!" called a gate tech from the control room.

"Godspeed," sighed Hammond.

Daniel wondered if this had been what it was like for Jack, leaving Daniel on Abydos. He hoped it would be a better outcome.


	57. Next

**Chapter 56 - Next**

_~This has to be a device,~ _Sam said, finally, hand resting on one of the outer walls of Quetesh's temple as she looked up into its shadowy lofts. So many investigations, and in the end it was nothing preposterous. It was said with trepidation, though, the mere size of the building impressive enough to be frightening.

_*Unfortunately that gets us nowhere. And we could have guessed, earlier.*_

_~Yes, but now what? How, why, does Quetesh have this?~_

Answers were slow in coming on this mission, but only a couple days later they got something. Martouf and Lantash could not check in as often as would be appreciated, and sometimes the news was downright cryptic. Jolinar had shown a little concern when instead of meeting at the usual spot, there was only a tiny note on parchment waiting for them.

She bent to pick it up, but the hastily scrawled Goa'uld words meant only: "Quetesh has a weapon on Dorieth."

Sam's first thought was the temple. _~Can it be?~_

_*Easily,* _said Jolinar, and her train of thought flowed swiftly in directions Sam could understand.

After destroying the note, they walked back to the settlement. The temple rose, its particular metal structure less ornate than usual temples. Its size reached for the sky, as any weapon would have to be against ship attacks. Jolinar dug back through their memories, but it was Sam who remembered the storm before Quetesh's first visit—the storm that had sent lightning sparking down the temple.

Sam knew that the design reminded her of something, probably from a movie, but it had been too long and she couldn't put a name to it. Nevertheless, the picture in her mind was clear; the temple's pyramid shape, pointing towards the heavens, and its structure of conductive material, would provide an excellent camouflage for a directed energy weapon.

_*And the power source of that weapon is likely buried beneath all of this, set into place so long ago that no one but Quetesh knows for sure.*_

_~So Quetesh strikes with stealth against Ba'al's forces, and then when they're weakened enough for her to have a chance, she draws his remaining ships here—where she can destroy them.~_

_*It all revolves around her accomplishing the first part of the plan, which is the most dangerous to the Tok'ra,* _Jolinar added.

_~So, I'm just brainstorming, but if we made the second part, this temple part, unavailable...~_

_*It might slow her down while she finds a new plan—but she will, eventually.*_

_~Time, time is good. We don't have any long-term strategy yet.~_

_*And so, what do we do with the temple?*_

It was partly rhetorical, as Jolinar could easily come up with ideas once she set her mind to it. But Sam didn't need that—one had just come into her head. Feeling the excitement of having something to plan, she almost grinned.

_*You want to explode it?*_

ooooooo

"I can't believe it," Mckay said, for the third time.

Once again, he was saying just what the others were thinking, just without the bit of tact they all used—and if the others other than Daniel weren't thinking it, they were more ingenious than Daniel thought possible from military types.

"Of all people, you—were the ambassador to one of the most technically advanced societies in the galaxy," Mckay said.

Jack, cleared for active duty again, just sat at the mess hall table. The briefing had been like something out of a fantasy of Daniel's, and even Jack had been serious and respectful throughout. The fifth race—the words sent shivers up Daniel's spine. The alliance of the four Great Races was now considering his people as a possible addition.

"I think the Asgard like me," Jack said simply.

"Well, and the Ancients certainly did," said Mckay, both impressed and jealous.

"Hey, did you ask about them?" Dixon asked. "Who they were, why the thing grabbed you?"

Daniel had almost forgotten that point, though apparently Teal'c had not, from his interested rise of an eyebrow.

"Uh, no," said Jack, poking at the pie on his plate.

Mckay looked disappointed.

Daniel glanced at the door a few seconds later, catching the sound of a step he knew well. Sha're, relieved and relaxed, came over to the table, Shifu slung in her arms.

"I was worried about you, O'Neill," she said, his name coming out strangely endearing in her accent.

Jack smiled, a bit uncomfortably. Smiling, Sha're stooped to hug Jack as he sat. Daniel was not surprised, remembering the Abyonians' penchant for physical displays. But he, and Sha're too, if he was reading the amused look on her face, knew that Jack found it awkward.

"Keep safe from this day forward," she said warningly, pausing only to rub Daniel's shoulder before leaving.

"Nice to know people care," Jack muttered, but they all could see that he was touched.

"I've got to figure out what was behind that device," Mckay said under his breath after a few seconds of quiet contemplation.

ooooooo

_~It's good tactics and good spin. We get rid of the temple, and it looks like sabotage. Quetesh's great monument, destroyed by mere mortals. If she is a god, why not defend it?~_

_*Right,* _agreed Jolinar, easily on board with this plan. Sam had had no doubt on that point.

They walked through the village, looking at all the faces, weary but settled.

_~We're only one person, though. How do we pull it off?~_

_*Blasting fire from the quarries,* _said Jolinar.

_~That foundation, that structure—I'm no architect, but there's no way it's going to come down easily.~_

_*Oh, we have enough, if one knows how to set the charges.*_

Sam almost grinned again, but they were walking among the people and couldn't let inner conversation affect outer acting. _~Let me guess, you're a bit of an expert on this?~_

Jolinar paused a moment before answering. _*No,* _she said. _*But it is an area I find most appealing, and have performed whenever possible before.*_

Sam nodded. _~Me too. So, we set it up slowly, little by little during the night shifts?~_

_*Yes, we can make that work.*_

There were more details than that, but words weren't quite fast enough. Jolinar had been at ease with the infiltration for some time, but Sam hadn't realized that it was exactly like spy-work until now. And she almost hated herself for finding something to enjoy in a mission that could cost so highly.

_*Take whatever pleasure you can; it may not last long.*_

ooooooo

Only a couple days after Jack's adventure, Jean and Kaleb moved into Colorado Springs. Jean's first true day at work was uneventful, as far as Daniel could tell from the reports. Unsurprising, given that Mckay was still at work on the Ancient device that had taken Jack. It wasn't his field, but as he said to Daniel, "If they leave their messes all around, I need to know how to break through and figure them out the next time."

Daniel wondered if it was possible, if they were advanced enough. Mckay, as always, scoffed and said that science was science, and it was something you learned not something you evolved to. Maybe he was right—Daniel was soft science, after all.

A few days after Jack's adventure, he refused to talk about it, and was all gung ho for the check-up mission to Cimmeria. The whole team went, if reluctantly from Mckay's point of view. On their way back to the gate, nothing new to report, Daniel heard Jack say:

"_This_ was a team mission."

And the team went as a group to the infirmary, which only occasionally happened. Janet was not there for the moment, and some nurses that not even Daniel knew by name dealt with the after-mission check-up. Almost at the end, there was a light knock behind Daniel on the infirmary doorframe.

"Hey, Daniel," said Jean, leaning her head around the frame.

"Hey," said Daniel, surprised. "What is it?"

"Well," she began, "I—oh, there's Rodney."

"Do you need something?" Mckay asked, trying not to be too distant

"Yes," she said, then hesitated. "First I read your last mission report, just out of curiosity—then Clare was showing me all the labs, including yours, and I noticed your research on that head-grabbing thing." She grinned, slightly sheepish.

"And?" Mckay asked.

"So, you still haven't figured out why it grabbed Colonel O'Neill," said Jean, nodding to where Jack was fussing about the needle. "And you're not even trying, from what we can tell."

 "You know, just because you're related doesn't mean you can spy on my work," Mckay said testily.

"And because you're mister up-and-on-top scientist here, you shouldn't be so protective about everything that you can't have time to work on," Jean answered in the blink of an eye, one hand on her hip as she stood full in the doorway now.

Mckay stumbled over his words. "You—you want to take my project?"

"No," said Jean firmly. "But I do have a theory and I'd like to run some tests with your research."

"What's the theory?" Mckay demanded.

Daniel felt as if the infirmary, and everyone in it, had disappeared for the siblings, leaving only them. He watched anyway, curious about the eventual outcome.

"You're focusing on the science," Jean said, gesturing with her hands. "But it's not like the device is sentient, so science isn't the testable variable for this issue—it's the people. You and Teal'c didn't activate the device; Jack did. We don't need to figure out how the device works to figure that out. So you can do your work, and I'll try to figure out what made Jack different."

Mckay took a long pause. "Hmm. Okay, I suppose."

"Good," said Jean lightly, putting her hands together. "Now, who do I go to to get genetic information on all three of you?"

"I can help with that," Daniel said, as Mckay looked protesting.

"I know this isn't my area of expertise, but I can't believe no one else has taken it," Jean said in a low tone, as Daniel went to find the head doctor when Janet wasn't around.

"I think our job description all has 'eclectic' somewhere in it, so I wouldn't worry," Daniel said.

Jean grinned, and Daniel knew he'd been right about her fitting this job.

ooooooo

Sam crouched down, reaching her hand through the gap in the stairs' design to click the blast charge into place. It had taken a couple days, and many a heart-pounding moment in case another Jaffa might notice, but all the charges they needed lay now in place. Sam breathed out, rose to her feet, and walked back up the stairs to the main level of the temple.

The sun shone down, light filling all but the farther recesses, and just being in it gave Sam less of a suspicious feeling. Out here she was Coron, not a secret Tok'ra agent.

_~You know, this is going to be really dangerous,~ _Sam said, not for the first time.

_*And we'll manage.*_

_~If this is a device, it has some kind of power source; we might not be able to repair the damage. It could take out the village and the fields, maybe even the quarries, or start a landslide.~_

_*And why would that be bad?*_

_~Sorry, I'm just thinking about maintaining our cover, how Coron will have to deal with the aftermath for weeks if not months.~_

_*Try thinking instead about keeping lives safe; everything else will fall into place as it happens.*_

_~Oh yes, that was helpful; how will we keep no one from dying without giving away our part in it?~_

_*Watch.*_

And Sam did. Jolinar slowly readjusted the flow of personnel to the temple, sending more of it to the fields and quarries. She noted those who were still close, guessed at reaction times, made sure that their tasks were easily grabbed and run away with if necessary. They would do this today—every hour longer just invited suspicion from a Jaffa who connected the dots after finding one of the blast charges.

_*I must not forget to hope that the blast charges collapse the building more than blast it across the countryside.*_

Mid-afternoon, she started. Activating the blast charges with the pocket detonator, she didn't set the timer though. Then, she called back one of the teams that had been patrolling the temple in the morning, gave them specific orders to be on the lookout. Not that Coron would suspect anything, just enough to hopefully give them the right frame of mind.

It took an hour longer than she expected, but the payload struck with just the right amount of tension.

"My lord," reported the Jaffa, eyes wide. "Sabotage, my lord, on the temple!"

"Speak quickly!" Jolinar demanded, moving closer to him in her faked urgency.

"An explosive, placed behind a supporting structure, but I do not know when it is set to go off," the Jaffa continued, and others heard and drew closer. "And I do not know how many more there are."

Jolinar glanced between all that stood near, taking the worry in their faces, and then she looked up to the temple itself. Sun glinted off its beams, and it framed small fluffy clouds in between the topmost ones, looking ever so peaceful and not about to be destroyed. She frowned.

"Swiftly, look among all the important structures, and report back," she ordered, nodding to each of the three Jaffa that stood near.

"But my lord, what if it is set to detonate shortly?" asked one.

"Then you will die having carried out my orders diligently," snapped Jolinar. "This is for the will of our god, not your simple life."

And they were off, armor chinking loudly as they ran up the temple steps. As a reasonable precaution, Jolinar then ordered all slaves to cease traffic to the temple. Blood pumped through their heart, and Jolinar felt the tension as almost a pleasant feeling—Sam didn't feel it much different from normal, but then again, it had only just begun.

oooooooo

Daniel sat cross-legged on the floor of his lab, knees touching Sha're's as she sat across from him. Their hands rested together in between, encircling Shifu where he lay, legs kicking.

"You don't need to be silent, Dan'yel," Sha're said.

"I'm sorry, I forgot the exact ritual," he said with a slight smile. He stroked her soft fingers, looking down at his son. "You look better."

"I am," she answered, giving tiny squeezes to his hand while acting as if she was doing nothing. "I have found the library on this base."

One of Daniel's eyebrows rose.

Sha're laughed. "You have been around Teal'c, perhaps too much?"

"So you are learning to read, then," Daniel said, interested and pleased.

"I learned that with the Tok'ra," she said. "My knowledge of Goa'uld is limited, but they were able to translate many documents into this language. Still you, Dan'yel, are more likely to know the writings of my own tongue of Abydos."

"Really?" Daniel said. This was something she'd never brought up before. He glanced up to her face, looking past the slight weariness that Shifu's colic still caused—that confidence behind her eyes, that he had first known in the fight against Ra, was there tenfold now. She had not only will, but knowledge—and she felt powerful. Daniel smiled again. "You'll have to tell me if there's anything interesting."

"Oh, do not worry, I will," Sha're said, with the hint in her eyes that told Daniel she knew exactly what thoughts were running through his head. Like always. He'd missed this so much...

"Oh, I'm sorry—"

Sha're looked up, and Daniel turned around, seeing Jean in the doorway.

"I didn't mean to interrupt," she said, waving her hand.

"It is nothing," Sha're said, nodding. "If it were otherwise, we should have closed the door at least. What is it?"

"I was going to tell Dr. Jackson—I've found something amazing," Jean said, and Daniel could have sworn her hand looked almost twitchy with excitement.

He remembered what she was working on, and sat up straight. "Really?"

"You know I wanted to see if there was something physical that the device detected in Colonel O'Neill," she said. "Well, I ran all the basic tests with the help of another scientist here, someone a bit more biologically minded. Blood type, the chemicals on the skin, even pheromones, but nothing came out significant."

Daniel nodded, as Sha're scooped up Shifu and rose to her feet, and he followed.

"But Rodney said these people had been working on genetic manipulation, so I thought, you don't just do that once, right?" Jean let the question hang for a second, the exact way Mckay did. It was thankfully a little more endearing on her.

Daniel was more distracted by her words, though. "The device genetically altered Jack?"

"No, no, I don't think so," said Jean. "Actually, I'm positive it's not like that. I talked to the SGC's geneticist, Dr. Fisher, and we ran...a lot of tests. Anyway, it took a long time, but then we found the anomaly."

"In Jack," Daniel guessed.

Jean nodded. "But it couldn't have been the device—at least, I'm 99% sure it couldn't—because we went back and found older blood tests and ran the same thing on them. One of Colonel O'Neill's genes is slightly different than everyone else on the team. And it always has been."

Daniel felt his mind opening wide. "So...the Ancients only would download their knowledge into the brain of someone who had the right gene?"

"That's my hypothesis," Jean said, nodding. "The problem is, I can't test it without someone else with the same gene, not to mention another legacy device. And so far as I can tell, Colonel O'Neill's the only one with the gene on this base. Well, according to Dr. Fisher, but he might have been exaggerating." She fiddled with her hands, eyebrows raised in expectation of his answer.

"This is—that's—" Daniel glanced to Sha're, but she had the same look of cluelessness that he figured was on his own face. "That's brilliant work. And this could be huge, if it really means all that."

"You know what," Jean said, eyes narrowing for a second. "I just thought of this—the Ancients must have been humanoid, very close to it, if just one gene was similar enough to activate the device."

"Well, don't humans share their genes with a lot of creatures?" Daniel asked.

"Oh, yes, I hadn't thought of that," Jean said, with a slight laugh. "I'm not a biologist."

"It might mean something, though," Daniel said. "We just don't know what."

"I'll do what further tests I can," said Jean with a nod. "Just thought I'd tell you, and maybe Rodney. I don't think Colonel O'Neill would want to know."

"No, probably not," said Daniel. "If he asks, though, I'll tell him."

"Back to work then," said Jean, smiling and turning to leave.

"I believe her report will make interesting reading," said Sha're, ponderingly.

Daniel turned to her and smiled, absently patting the top of Shifu's head as his mind still whirled with this new possibility. "I've no doubt it will."

ooooooo

Jolinar shouted sharp commands as the inhabitants of Dorieth fled from the radius of the temple, anything important they could grab grasped tightly in their arms. Jaffa could barely be distinguished from them, running almost as disorderly, even as they were commanded to shepherd.

"You, tell them to turn back!" Jolinar called to one Jaffa, seeing some of the slaves from the valley running towards the mountain. It wouldn't be as safe down there, but they wouldn't make it up far enough in time. The timer was set, and though Coron was only supposed to guess, the nature of Goa'uld explosives made it fairly accurate.

Only a couple minutes left. They were almost a mile away, but it didn't seem far enough. Jolinar was starting to have a moment of fear, and it was probably Sam's originally, but either way...

"Move!" she snapped, some of the slower slaves in her path on the way up into the hills. She thought she'd arranged them better than this in the morning.

They were turning the corner, rounding one of the hills that led into the mountains. Jolinar hadn't lost count: fifteen seconds.

_~I need to see,~ _said Sam.

"Down!" ordered Jolinar, as she strode up to the top of the hill, planting her feet, preparing to heal ear damage at the sound of the boom.

They heard it first, then felt it. A crack of thunder, and the earth quaked beneath them, dislodging their footing even as fire ripped through the sky. The temple shook in the initial explosion, then the secondary ones blasted out in a wide radius, sending fire and shrapnel raining down even on the villages. Buildings that weren't in the blast zone still crumbled because of the shaking of the earth.

A heat wave struck Jolinar full in the face, and in her shock she breathed in heat and smoke. When she opened her eyes again, the remaining structures of the temple wavered, creaking and trembling. Then in another crash, they fell, some sliding down into the valley, one crashing into the front steps itself. The skyline was suddenly clear, and the planet looked naked.

_~Did we expect that level of damage?~ _Sam asked, looking at the all-but destroyed village below. Even the road was cracked in two places, and almost half the housing lay in smoking rubble.

_*We did,* _Jolinar said.

She took a breath of clearer air, then gave Sam control as she started to work on the ringing in their ears. Sam turned to the people below, Jaffa and slaves alike sheltered behind the hills. Not all could hear, but not all had to.

"There is fire in the village below," she called. "Drey'dac, you will lead the slaves to work there. And Corrifin, you will report to me with a list of damages and any deaths. Our god does not allow for wasted time. Move!"

_~Will they question why Quetesh allowed this to happen, I wonder?~_

_*We may help them with that. What we may not help is what Quetesh will do when she hears of it. Omniscient she may not be, but wrathful she can be. Her suspicion will be great.*_

But as Sam followed the Jaffa and slaves down to the village, with the smoke choking her lungs and the chaos of destruction all she could see behind it—all she cared about was the people of this planet. The people she was sworn to protect, all of them. She had to do this, for the greater good of the mission. But she wasn't going to let them take whatever fall Quetesh might have in mind.

And as her hearing leveled back out and returned to normal, she knew that this must be what the Tok'ra felt like all the time. Each step needing careful planning because they couldn't afford to blame themselves for lack of it. Even Jolinar understood this, but especially now. Now, it was almost their people who might suffer; their friends, at least, if any Abydonian died.

It could not happen.


	58. Stray Ends

**Chapter 57 - Stray Ends**

Sha're sat with Shifu in the mess hall as Daniel walked in. She had a file folder open on the table before her, a pita sandwich in one hand and another cradling Shifu as he fed sheltered beneath her scarf.

"Today a good day?" he asked, interpreting her look of peaceful fascination.

"Mm," she said through a mouthful of the flatbread. She glanced up. "But not yours?"

Daniel frowned. Surely he didn't look that bad. He glanced down at himself, just to make sure.

"You forgot your glasses," she said, catching his confusion and smiling.

That explained the slight blurriness. Daniel rubbed at the spot where they should be on his nose. "Oh. Yeah, I guess it was a bit tough."

"Sit then," Sha're beckoned.

Daniel took the seat opposite her, leaning his arms on the table. He sighed, then realized he didn't even know he'd wanted to.

"Well?" Sha're asked, curious. She put down her pita and closed the file, fixing her attention on him.

"Just Mckay and Jean," Daniel said. He still didn't know exactly what they were doing, only that while they could keep the bickering up all day without actually losing their temper, he had gotten overwhelmed. "They convinced Hammond to let a team extract the Ancient device from the planet, so they could bring it back here and study it."

"What do they wish to find?" Sha're asked. Shifu moaned underneath the shawl, and Sha're adjusted him and herself while Daniel found the words for an answer.

"Oh," he said with another sigh. Sighing felt good. "They're convinced that the device should have some information left over if they can just access it. I think they're trying to find an easy way to artificially use Jack's DNA, but they may have gotten past that. I don't know. There was an occasional phrase or two that needed translating, so they wouldn't let me leave."

"Oh, poor Dan'yel," Sha're said, softly but amused. "You haven't eaten, have you?"

Daniel blinked. How had he forgotten that? It would explain his dull mood. "Uh, no."

"First your eyes, and now your stomach," Sha're said. "Dan'yel, Dan'yel."

He smiled, a little sheepish but mostly glad of the reminder, then looked over her shoulder to see a head pop around the corner.

Sha're seemed to catch the change in his face. "What is it?" she asked, then turned around.

"Jackson," said Mckay, terse but bright in tone. "We need—"

"Nothing," Sha're said shortly. "We are eating, Rodney, and that is that. I will send him your way when he is ready."

It was short and sweet, and Mckay's mouth did a half-closing thing before he said anything. "Yes, well—wait, no—"

"Come, Dan'yel, let us see what's on the menu today," Sha're said, standing up and gesturing for Daniel to follow her.

Daniel smiled, and almost shrugged to Mckay behind her back. But he didn't want to draw attention to her handling of the situation, especially because he was merely grateful for it. And that food did look good.

Even Rodney didn't follow Sha're once he had been dismissed.

ooooooo

Two Jaffa dead, that was their casualty list. A handful of smaller injuries, but it was the deaths that were important. Especially since they were still masquerading as Jaffa.

Sam and Jolinar didn't waste a moment to take in the expanse of the disaster, at least not outwardly, as they sorted the uninjured into work groups. All that afternoon, and the rest of the evening, they only saw the basic needs taken care of. Some cleared paths to get through areas. Some arranged quarters for the injured. Some took care of the necessities of water and food, since sleep was less a priority even at this point. By the time evening arrived, Jolinar was ready to instruct the night shift on more particular clean-up.

That was the moment that they remembered that Quetesh didn't know yet. It was a bit of a mistake, but easily corrected. The Jaffa were all standing, waiting for their new orders.

"Corrifin," Jolinar said. "Though our god Quetesh sees all, it seems that she did not consider to look and watch over those who serve her well." She let the words hang, though did not add any look or tone that might suggest another meaning to her words. They were intelligent enough to understand even if they didn't know why.

"Then I will go to inform her," Corrifin said, catching the obvious meaning.

They barely noticed as he trudged up the road to the gate. The broken road. Jolinar gritted her teeth for having to deal with that in the days to come. They couldn't spare time to fix it, not when the fields and village were in such a mess.

At last they were all tasked with something, and Jolinar felt the need to walk up to the ruins themselves. A putrid stench lingered above them, mingling with the smoke that still hovered around. The ruins themselves were heated, not only from the sun, but from their conductive nature. Carefully, trying to keep balance in their clunky armor, Jolinar stepped through, looking around.

_~Curious?~_

_*If it was a device, then there would be some kind of crystalline programming.*_

Sam doubted anything would be there, but Jolinar looked anyway, still curious. The foundation was the only thing left standing, though, and everything else had been scattered in pieces darkened by the explosives and soot.

_~I hope Quetesh doesn't want us to rebuild this.~_

_*She does not possess that kind of patience.*_

_~Good, because it'll be bad enough to clean this up.~_

Jolinar exited the ruins and walked down the road, noticing with displeasure the sharp cracks in their road. The fields below had suffered some, mostly in the fall of soot and debris shards. Water would wash most of it away, but it would take some skill to get the proper amount that would wash away the scraps without flooding. Also, the metal would have to be collected and taken to a refinery—naquadah alone was difficult to gather, but any resource could not be wasted.

The next time they talked to someone, Sam realized that the sun had fallen several degrees, and it was late afternoon. Corrifin returned, approached them, and bowed to offer a small computer screen.

Jolinar slightly raised an eyebrow.

"I did not speak to our lord directly, as expected," Corrifin said. "But her servant, Tirnin, vowed to carry the message, and he returned later and asked that you be given this."

Jolinar had been giving Corrifin a steady eye, but at the name Tirnin she could not help but glance down at the computer. Martouf and Lantash were taking quite a risk to send information this way, which could be either a good or a bad sign. Were they in disfavor, or so deep and trusted that they couldn't afford to risk it? It was not the time for that, though. "We can only hope that our god sees fit to notice us now," Jolinar said, eyebrow thoroughly risen and emphasis on the last word.

Corrifin took in her words, bowed again, and returned to his previous duty.

They were too curious to wait, so Jolinar stepped to one side and activated the device. It called for a simple Tok'ra password, and then had a brief document inside.

_*Oh my.*_

Brief it might be, but information was there in plenty. Tirnin had been busy.

ooooooo

"Um, Daniel?" Clare Tobias was at his door, surprising him. The engineering department never needed him.

"Yes?" he answered.

"Jean sent me," she said, looking slightly cautious. "And...the magic twins have actually got something for you."

"The what?" Daniel asked with slight laugh.

"They needed my help breaking the device down," said Clare, grinning. "Or, well, Mckay was going to go at it, but Jean distracted him with jello so I could get in first. Oh, you meant the name? It's nothing, just that they've been doing a lot of interesting stuff together. Not really magic, but genius definitely."

"No, I understand nicknames," said Daniel. "What exactly have they got?"

"A bit of something that looks like programming, but they're not sure if it's Ancient text or some kind of symbolic language," said Clare. "And I'm good with programming languages once I know them, but identifying them is a bit tricky."

"Yeah, sure, I'll be down in a minute," said Daniel, getting up from his chair. Again, he wondered why she was there. "Is there a reason they didn't call or come up?"

"Jean thinks you're frustrated with them because they've been using you a lot on this," said Clare, shrugging apologetically.

Daniel nodded, and didn't answer as he followed her. He didn't want to be frustrated, that was for sure. But with Shifu staying up all night wailing, and Mckay on top of him the next morning—well, he hadn't been at his best. The honeymoon period of this new SGC, and his new family, was wearing off faster than he could track it.

Somehow that didn't matter, though, when he had the actual text in his hand.

ooooooo

_~This almost the whole plan laid out, honestly.~ _Sam had absorbed all the information in the small information packet, and how just needed to repeat it out in order.

_*Quetesh had a plan, that is sure.*_

_~So all we need to know is exactly how the stealth attack is going to go, because everything else is simple. How she's going to take out all the leaders on Ba'al's ships...I don't know, it's quite ambitious.~_

_*The Tok'ra could manage it. Which is the point, I suppose, but Quetesh is apparently willing to stoop to that. She needs to, if she wants his fleet. They would self-destruct before surrender, unless she can demonstrate her weapon.*_

_~Well, her chances would certainly be better without leaders. Take out the leaders, the Tok'ra are blamed, and then the rest of the fleet can be lured to the planet and forced to surrender.~_

_*Without the weapon, though, that plan becomes half obsolete.*_

_~Is there a way she could use that love drug that was mentioned more extensively? When we went up against Hathor, it was devastatingly effective.~_

_*I do not know. But as it seemed she was drawing near to having both the stealth and the weapon ready, I think it will take some time to switch plans.*_

_~And in the meantime, we get this Jaffa thing rolling.~_

_*Martouf says that he believes that Quetesh's leniency might have worked against her for some of the Jaffa, and they may be open to seeing other views.*_

_~Okay, so that means we need to contact Bra'tac. Do you know the address to Chulak?~_

_*Someone among the Tok'ra does.*_

_~Okay, let's get this going then.~_

_*What we don't know, still, is how Quetesh reacted. But we could hardly change anything in that case, so it is more a matter of curiosity.*_

_~Exactly.~_

Jolinar had been just about to say that—perhaps Sam was more like her than she knew.

ooooooo

After a short reconnection with the Tok'ra to get the information for Chulak, Jolinar hooded herself to hide Quetesh's mark and disappeared during Dorieth night. After bearing the tattoo for so long, it had stained itself deeply into their skin, becoming semi-permanent. Chulak's early morning made for a bit of psychological jolt, but that was not so bad.

Finding Bra'tac did not take long. Neither Sam nor Jolinar knew what he'd been up to, but the planet looked fairly at rest. He eyed her cautiously, but it soon became clear that he had not been totally informed of what had happened with Sam. Only that she had been taken, and as Bra'tac had heard of the Tok'ra before, he accepted that with minimal doubt.

Their mission, however, made him more skeptical.

"I do not know your allegiances, much as I would wish to believe you," he said after Sam explained all she could. They sat in Teal'c's old house, though by Drey'auc and Ry'ac were not present.

"Listen, I'm not going to ask for information about any contacts you have," Sam assured. "I just need your advice on who I should be looking to turn on Dorieth, and how to go about it. Surely you have experience by now."

Bra'tac eyed her from beneath his grey brows. "That information could be useful to the Goa'uld."

"So could most things," Sam said firmly. "But either these Jaffa will die in conquest, or we can free them—your choice. Either way, though, Quetesh will not survive."

"A part of me wishes to believe that you are a well-trained spy," Bra'tac said, his voice carrying a dangerous tint that sounded like slight amusement. "But I have been accustomed to believing the Goa'uld to be less subtle, and that is hard to shake."

"Will you help?" Sam asked.

Bra'tac leaned closer. "If the Tok'ra are willing to prove to me their good will. I will give you nothing on this visit, but leave me a device that may contact you."

Sam paused. "You could use that information against us."

"Or find out that you are truly communicating with a System Lord," Bra'tac countered. "But trust is something I require before I give you mine."

Sam frowned, but he didn't asked for much in the end. Just that she let herself be held captive, without a weapon, and let him hold a staff weapon to her head as he interrogated her. Jolinar was skeptic, but Sam was leading on this one—she didn't think she had anything to fear from Bra'tac, and certainly nothing from herself. Still, her heart didn't stop pounding until some time after Bra'tac lost the steely glint in his eye as he looked fully prepared to blast her head off at the first wrong answer.

It wasn't much of a test, but it satisfied Bra'tac for then. Sam only had a few hours left before she needed to be back on Dorieth, but Bra'tac made the hours worth it. She and Jolinar left Chulak mid-morning their time, and returned when only a couple hours of night remained on Dorieth. They felt exhausted the next morning, but it had been worth it.

Surprisingly, it was the little things that made the difference. A few looks here, some words there, a delicate manipulation of tone. Those who were well-entrenched in their ways wouldn't notice, but Sam started to notice that some of the more difficult Jaffa might be using bluster to hide doubt.

Day by day, the pieces of their broad plan were spread out among the planet, as they looked forward to the day when they would all fit together into the perfect puzzle.

ooooooo

To Daniel's relief, Mckay and Jean didn't find much in the leftovers of the Ancient device, and the SGC moved on to other tasks. Jean started work in R&D, and Mckay went back to updating the SGC's defenses.

Dixon stopped by Daniel's office more than usual now. At first Daniel hadn't given it mind, until he realized that the conversation always went in a parenting direction. It was subtle, so Daniel hadn't really expected it.

"It's very different now," Daniel admitted one day, leaving the file of Ancient information he was organizing alone and leaning back in his chair. "I can't just—focus the way I used to."

"Well, I have good news and bad news," said Dixon, comfortably leaned against the door. "Good news is, that fades the older they get, and the less immediate trouble they are for you. Bad news is, something about that's always here to stay. Your single and productive days are over."

Daniel nodded, with slight weariness. "I honestly never considered that before." Then again, he'd only joined in the first place for Sha're—but even after that, he'd never considered children, or what they might do to things.

"Join the club," snorted Janet, walking into the office right as Daniel spoke.

"You have a kid?" Dixon asked, surprised.

"Yes, of course," said Janet crisply. "Were you not here when Cassandra came?"

Dixon shrugged. "Sorry, I don't pay that much attention to gossip."

"Well, I can't fault you for that, sir," Janet said, walking over to hand Daniel a file. "Daniel, I hope you don't mind, but I did an allergy test on Shifu—Sha're approved, of course. He appears to be clean, surprising given that he was born on another world."

"Thanks," said Daniel, shuffling the file to another place on his desk.

Janet paused as she was leaving, turning around. "Oh, and speaking of Cassandra, she would like to stop by and see Shifu if that's all right."

"Of course," said Daniel. "It's been a long time since her last visit, hasn't it?"

Janet nodded, her lips pursed. "Yes, well, things were tough for a while."

Daniel had almost forgotten how connected Cassie had been to—. "Just bring her along any time," he said.

"There really are a lot of kids," Dixon mused. "We're becoming a family business."

Daniel chuckled.

ooooooo

They were a little too blunt, but thankfully it wasn't the Jaffa who noticed. After a couple days of dropping the starting points of Jaffa rebellion, the Abydonians started to catch the hints not meant for them. They started to speak more boldly, offering excuses or alternatives on occasion, though only when Sam and Jolinar were around.

Worse, it wasn't just the Abydonians. Sam and Jolinar quietly and carefully molded their leadership style to be more revolution-friendly, but even they couldn't go too far. Definitely not yet.

_*It's too fast,* _Jolinar said, after they only barely avoided a confrontation with Sheryen over another almost-rebellious slave. _*It has to be all at once, slaves and Jaffa alike, or it will backfire.*_

Sam decided that now was the time for direct. Inchen, one of the most outward of the Abydonians, made yet another bold move—and Sam had him brought to her quarters. For all outward intents and purposes she was teaching him a lesson, but instead she made sure of her assumptions.

Yes, he did suspect her of being a spy. And yes, she confirmed it. He looked bright, just not bright enough to lead a rebellion by himself.

"We're not letting you do it on your own," she said, looking him straight in the eye with her tone low but firm. "It would be disaster. But we have a plan, and if you just slow down and take it with a little less enthusiasm, it'll work for you too."

Inchen's eyes were wide, hope and surprise and maybe a little fear all mingled in them. He swallowed. "I will tell them."

Sam realized that she might have been too conversational. Her tone tightened. "You cannot betray that you know anything, or it will prove the deaths of many. Do you understand this?"

The bit of fear rose in Inchen's eyes, but he nodded swiftly. "Only a few know," he said, his tone low as well. "We know that there is danger."

"More than I can protect you from, remember," said Sam. "Especially if you defy my Jaffa in this manner."

When she dismissed him, it was a relief to see him return looking deflated.

_*They cannot know too much, of course, but it would be simpler if they were aware that we need the Jaffa on our side as well.*_

_~They can't handle that much to keep discreet; they're too honest.~_

_ooooooo_

Discretion mattered more than they had bargained for. Only a day later, and the Tok'ra home-world itself contacted Sam and Jolinar. Nothing had been heard of Quetesh, or what her reaction or solution to the disaster on Dorieth was, so they were hesitant to return. However, the Council seemed to insist.

The Council chamber looked strange to Jolinar after almost three weeks away. Three weeks in the sun and the dust and the grit of hard labor. It was like a breath of home, but a home they didn't want to see until their mission was complete.

"Why were we recalled like this?" Jolinar asked. "It is not a good time."

"So we heard," said Garshaw. "Your business with the temple could prove...interesting. But we do not fault the move, especially since our other operative approved as well."

Jolinar tried to read her face, but failed. Selmak and Ren'al stood behind her, but their expressions were too calm to have anything.

"It is your other improvised action that we must speak on," said Garshaw, taking a breath. "You and the other operative collaborated on a plan involving the Jaffa. The Council was hesitant to even think about it, but we trusted your judgment. You spoke to one you believe is a leader of the Jaffa rebellion?"

Jolinar nodded once.

_~How could she guess that we met with Bra'tac?~ _Sam asked. They hadn't even told Martouf or Lantash.

"An attack against Apophis was led today, by his own Jaffa," Garshaw said, her eyes set and cool. "One of our operatives witnessed the entire thing, and was near to being in danger."

Jolinar frowned. "We only spoke with Bra'tac two days ago," she said. "Surely it is a coincidence."

"We cannot know for sure, only that this has not happened before," said Garshaw. "And didn't seem likely to happen."

Jolinar's frown deepened. "Any action was his prerogative."

"Which gives us great concern about this move," Selmak said, stepping forward. "We understand your intent, but the Jaffa are unpredictable in the manner."

Sam spoke next. "They aren't going to risk anything that could turn back on them, not at this stage. That event won't be repeated for a while, I'm sure. It's just to spread the word."

"And make the Goa'uld suspicious of everyone, compromising our network," said Ren'al, but her tone wasn't heavy.

"Only in the worst case scenario," Sam said. This was her idea, after all, and she'd been mulling it over for weeks now. "But the Goa'uld may just as easily consider their lieutenants and the Jaffa separate, as the Tok'ra did before now. But how mighty we can be if beneath the surface we are allied."

No immediate answer came, as neither Sam nor Jolinar could really expect.

"We will do nothing but watch and wait for now," said Garshaw. "But we do not wish you contacting the Jaffa again, lest they be encouraged to the point of foolhardiness, even if you intention is otherwise. And we are issuing a broad order to limit reports, if indeed the Goa'uld grow more wary."

Sam nodded, and the briefing ended.

"There is not too much to worry about yet," said Selmak in a low tone, putting a hand on her back as he turned to follow Garshaw and Ren'al as they left.

"I certainly hope not," said Sam.


	59. Worry

**Chapter 58 - Worry**

Sha're had convinced him to do it. Daniel planned for no interruptions, especially now that their schedule flowed fairly smoothly. But this dig, it reminded him of things from a long time ago, and Sha're seemed eager to join him offworld.

"You're sure the team won't need me?" he asked Jack.

"We're not doing much for a while, Daniel," said Jack. "Which is odd, you know, given our mission."

"Mission?" Daniel asked, eyebrows slightly risen in curiosity.

"You know, explore new worlds, boldly go, yadda yadda," Jack said dryly. "New civilizations, though, not dead ones."

Daniel smiled to himself. "Jack, that's Star Trek." He paused. "Hey, I thought you didn't like science fiction."

"I...don't," Jack said, his defense coming out quick but rather flat.

Daniel smiled to himself again.

Jack switched to his other defense. "Anyway, you two kids—and your kid—have fun in the dirt. We'll keep the light on here."

"Thanks, Jack," said Daniel. He wasn't sure if he himself would really use the word fun, but the way Jack meant it—yes, that was exactly what he intended to have.

ooooooo

Affairs were best termed tenuous on Dorieth, Jolinar decided. Sam had been more optimistic, calling them generally ripe for change. Jolinar reminded her enough times that change was not always good.

It was strange, watching how the ideal changed on its way to reality. Without any more words in person, it seemed that Kasuf was convinced. With the planet in a mess, there'd been no way to keep guards on him all the time, and so he'd been released among his people. That, along with what they would almost certainly tell him, sealed the deal.

Suddenly, the Abydonians were perfectly efficient. Suddenly, their boldness was almost always within the proper parameters. And suddenly, Sam and Jolinar's hints to the Jaffa seemed to prove correct.

That was the most touchy aspect, of course. Instigating doubt while maintaining the impression of utter loyalty—they were almost certainly failing, but it was the extent that mattered.

"_Speak to their intelligence," _Bra'tac had said. _"For you cannot know their hearts, but a Jaffa will always have a mind that he values."_

Jolinar had taken that, and as the planet mended, she'd dropped all the hints she could.

"Well done, Drey'dac," she said, as he reported that the fields were clean and proper cultivation could continue. "You have done the role of our god, protecting her interests."

Drey'dac contemplated her words openly for a couple seconds, and then moved on.

Jolinar prepared her next salvo.

"Just as Quetesh rules with intelligence and tolerance, so you have matched her in achieving much on this planet," Jolinar said to Sheryen, watching the now-cooperative Abydonians repair the last few buildings in the village in less time than planned.

Sheryen barely paid her mind, but she knew he would think of them later.

_~These sound a bit cheesy, actually,~ _said Sam.

_*We have been subtle for some time. Heavy handed is allowed.*_

Sam had to admit, Jolinar had her convinced when she reminded her of exactly how the Goa'uld spoke. Growing up in that kind of atmosphere—maybe the Jaffa wouldn't think it cheesy. Still, some of them were sharp-minded.

ooooooo

"Dan'yel, look at this," Sha're called across the ground. The sun was high on P3X-808, and Daniel had to squint to see her. She was with Lieutenant Thomas of SG-6, who was squatting by something.

Daniel walked over, avoiding the tools that someone had left lying along the pathway, his brow furrowed. "I thought there wasn't anything over here."

"Well, there was this weird lump here that we thought was a rock," said Thomas, sunglasses and a bandanna making him look less scholarly than he actually was. He indicated a non-descript lump in the excavated area.

"But I feel it, like the technology of the Goa'uld," said Sha're, her arms lightly crossed over her chest.

"You mean it has naquadah in it?" Daniel asked, curious.

Sha're nodded. "It feels the same, only lesser."

"And now look," said Thomas, using his big brush to clean off the top of it.

Daniel squatted, adjusting his glasses to get a good look. What had seemed merely lumpy before now seemed to be a broken design, probably of entwined snakes. "Oh, that is interesting."

"This is a bit strange for a Goa'uld world, isn't it?" Thomas asked, sitting back on his heels.

Daniel brushed more delicately at the still half-buried object. "Um, why?" he asked, not really paying attention.

"Well, we don't normally find abandoned worlds without good reason," said Thomas. "There are ruins, sure, but they're of cultures the Goa'uld wiped out. Goa'uld planets are taken over by other Goa'uld, so there's no technology left unused."

"Maybe there was an uprising," Daniel suggested. He tried to guess what kind of material it was made of, but it didn't look like a machine; he'd have to check to see if it really was naquadah, and if it was used for construction or power.

"Well, we haven't found evidence of civilization at all," said Thomas, standing up and stretching out his back. "That's what's weird."

"I did not even think to focus on my senses before," Sha're said, brow firm as she contemplated. "Only, when I was with the Tok'ra, naquadah was all around me. On Earth, I had almost forgotten what it felt like. Today—it was like the hint of an old smell, that those who do not know cannot notice."

Daniel stood up, looking to her. She seemed interested in it, but he wondered why the sense wasn't a painful reminder. The Goa'uld should not have been a pleasant reminder. Ah, but she had said Tok'ra—now he remembered. She gave him a slight smile when she caught him looking, and he thought about how much more of the universe she knew than him, or any of them.

"You may have quite the archaeological gift, then," said Thomas with a smile. "At least for SGC digs."

Sha're smiled back at him. "I should like to go around the rest of this place, maybe even more of the planet; I think I can find any Goa'uld technology if I concentrate on feeling it."

"Don't you have a kid?" Thomas asked, suddenly noticing that neither Daniel nor Sha're had the sling or backpack.

"But of course not," Sha're said earnestly. "Lieutenant, you must have been imagining it."

Thomas laughed, shaking a finger at her and her broad smile. "Funny."

"Major Matthews is watching him," said Sha're, more serious but still smiling. "He had too much sun yesterday, and so I did not want him to accompany me here."

"Matthews?" said Thomas, slight incredulity in his tone.

Daniel shared the same thought—kid friendly from a distance, maybe, but not a father. "Maybe I should go check on him."

"If you wish for a break, Dan'yel, perhaps you and he may come with me as I walk the forest to feel for more naquadah," Sha're offered.

"That sounds fine," said Daniel. "I'll get the little guy, then, if he's not napping."

They walked back towards the encampment. It was so quiet offworld, so natural. It wasn't anything like Abydos, but with Sha're and even Shifu it gave him that same feeling. Family and work all in one peaceful mixture. Their war with the Goa'uld made most of that impossible in the SGC, but Daniel appreciated times like these.

ooooooo

The plan was in flux on Dorieth now. Things had been set in motion for a while now, with a goal in sight, even if it wasn't firmly attached to a time yet. Frustratingly, however, they weren't the only ones capable of thinking and planning.

Kasuf managed to be near the gate as representatives were leaving, and managed to be on the alert for catching the address. As far as he knew, he reported to Sam and Jolinar secretly, it was the address to Quetesh's breeding planet. The planet where she used her slaves to breed more specialized slaves, as well as the hosts for her favorite lieutenants. They'd almost forgotten this point, and it was still unfamiliar enough for Sam that she shuddered on thinking about it.

"Many of my people are there," Kasuf urged. "I know that you are not here for them alone, but can you not find some way to save them before it is too late? We need only a little help to escape. Abydos is ready and waiting."

Jolinar didn't know that for sure, despite the fact that it was probably a good guess. The issue, however, was the danger of compromising their entire position to help the Abydonians.

They dismissed Kasuf for that day, needing time and space to think. Jolinar was ready to grit her teeth and say no—patience was important, and the eventual rescue of all these people was their goal. Sam was close to agreeing, but she had not been able to numb herself to the reality of what Quetesh was doing. Violation, not just humiliation.

Jolinar froze on that subject, not wanting to think on it. Sam couldn't distance herself that far yet. She wasn't sure if she wanted to, even though she thought she knew why Jolinar did.

But they didn't have time to make up their mind before Kasuf was back again. Jolinar's first reaction was frustration, but even Sam couldn't know why—maybe Jolinar didn't understand it all herself. She didn't seem to want to try. All she knew was that Kasuf was pushing, with very little regard to the precarious situation.

"Please," he begged, and her frustration couldn't be extreme because all they saw in his eyes was the urgent plea of a man who saw himself as the father of all these people. "Anything. We need only a chance."

Again, Jolinar barely gave a response, pushing him away so they could have more time to think.

_*This may destroy our plan.*_

_~And it may not. What are a few hundred slaves in revolt, especially when they're already established as troublesome? How could it affect us?~_

_*Apart from the likelihood that our involvement will be obvious?*_

_~I don't know. I don't know.~_

Other issues troubled them for a time, and Kasuf was not as pushy as he could have been. But it had only been a couple days, and they still had no idea what they should do.

_~Is there a way that Martouf and Lantash could help instead? Or at least, we could get their opinion.~_

Jolinar was unsure. They hadn't received any information about Quetesh, or Martouf and Lantash, since the Tok'ra's decree that contact should be lessened for security's sake. It was only natural, she supposed, but part of her worried. Why hadn't Quetesh done anything about Dorieth? Was she trying to keep up a good face by pretending that it wasn't a destruction of her plan? What about other, darker, possibilities?

Sam sighed, not wanting to get distracted by this. Not wanting to get distracted by Kasuf, either. They did not need more complications.

Except, they had come so far. Jolinar wasn't ready to let this mission take over the original purpose. Which was to save Sha're's people, since Sam and Jolinar were almost directly responsible for their current state. Once they both actively acknowledged this, they couldn't forget it again.

Hesitantly, they sent Kasuf a bare message: we will try.

ooooooo

"What do you mean we can't contact Earth?" Daniel asked, trying not to sound as worried as he felt. Sha're stood beside him, and seemed to unconsciously put out a hand to touch Shifu as he lay in Daniel's arms.

Major Matthews sighed, hand resting on the DHD. "I mean, we can dial just fine, but there's no connection to Earth.

The rest of SG-6 stood around as well, shifting, frowning.

Daniel thought out loud. "This is our scheduled time, right?" Matthews nodded. The next possibility came up just fast enough to be a little worrisome. "So, the gate's down?"

Matthews grunted. "That's my guess."

"Well, that happens," said Thomas, a bit more lightly. "I mean, we've all been there when it did."

"Yeah, I'll just try in a few hours," said Matthews with a sigh. "Y'all just get back to work, or rest, or something."

Daniel sighed. He wasn't really worried, other than the small part of him that was always a knot of apprehension about something.

"Dan'yel, are you really so impatient to _leave_ a task of your specialty?" Sha're asked, finding amusement in something.

Daniel smiled. All the times he'd regretted joining SG-1 and dropping all the specialized missions—and now, he was being unnaturally opposite. "I guess I'm worried about the team," he said. "And Shifu—offworld isn't the safest."

"Offworld on this world, at least," Sha're corrected. She peered over the edge of the sling that Daniel was using to help cradle their child. "But he is remarkably asleep in any case."

Daniel looked down. "So he is."

"Strange how it seems remarkable some days," commented Sha're, exhaling and resting a hand on her hip. "Well, Dan'yel, perhaps another walk? We have not explored this place fully."

He had almost forgotten the rest of the planet, caught up in the strange ruins that so far had only given dead ends. "Yes, yes, of course," he said.

Waiting around would only make him jittery anyway, and it was unlikely that this delay meant anything in the end. They'd be checking in to the SGC in a matter of hours, and Mckay would be thoroughly protesting that it wasn't his fault, and that would be that. For now, there was still some of this planet that was possibly interesting, if only it were explored.

ooooooo

With all that was going on, nothing was happening slow enough for Sam or Jolinar. The Abydonians on the planet, the other slaves, the Jaffa, and their duty as Coron—all had been plenty of mental work. This request of Kasuf's was only going to be more difficult.

If nothing else mattered, Jolinar had no doubt that they could arrive on the breeding world, find the Abydonians, and get them offworld before their disguise faltered. But they needed this disguise. They'd need it for a long time yet.

_*This is insanity either way.*_

Jolinar already felt guilty for allowing herself to feel guilty for something they couldn't do yet—with all that, Sam wasn't sure what her own thoughts were. Except that as always, she would look for options.

_~Can we just give them the keys, or something like that~ _Sam asked. _~Surely they're motivated enough to make their own escape.~_

Experience from a dozen missions made Jolinar want to say no, but she stopped herself short. _*I'm not the one to know.*_

That didn't surprise Sam, given the little glimpses she'd had about Jolinar's past missions. Only now had she been so focused on the human slaves. ~So, what does your intuition say?~

_*Too simplistic,* _Jolinar answered, and like most times, Sam felt confident in even such a quick estimation.

_~Right ballpark, though?~_

Jolinar almost instantly picked up on these idioms now. _*Maybe.*_

They figured out only a second later that they were missing one important factor—how Quetesh's breeding world operated.

Biting her lip at this complication, Sam waited until that late that night. Foregoing sleep again, as soon as the quietest and easiest shift was at work, she went through the gate using the address Kasuf had provided.

It was no different from the ones Jolinar remembered, or the one that Sam had seen on a world of Heru'ur (and that seemed so long ago). But they had become so close to this, so close to these people.

Evening marked this planet, and though children ran through the streets almost unguarded, everywhere else a heavy hand showed. Young men and women in clean fresh robes, escorted with heads low by Jaffa. Older men and women, shabbily garbed and their expressions matching their clothes. Most of these women appeared pregnant, but very few were on the streets. Neither Sam nor Jolinar wanted to imagine fully what went on behind the walls—people would always make the best of things, especially when children were at stake, but that didn't cover anything.

_*Especially since Quetesh most likely does away with those who do not or cannot serve her exact needs.*_

Sam couldn't think of the children as playful after that.

The slaves on this world were highly segregated, and the buildings had higher security than on Dorieth or other Goa'uld worlds. Here it was not for fear of rebellion, just for organization's sake. Jolinar made Sam aware that not all Goa'uld were like this; Quetesh was particularly obsessed with this aspect of her reign.

Sam wondered, doubting their plan for a moment. What if Quetesh made the connection between disasters befalling her two obsessions, the temple and this breeding world?

_*We are not making a move yet,* _said Jolinar, neither assuring nor assured.

_~It is at least only a short distance to the gate,~ _commented Sam, glancing at the heavily treed landscape beyond this cleared area.

They couldn't stay long, not when it was difficult enough to explain to the Jaffa who saw them that they were performing their duty; at some point, they would be bound to run across one who would have the authority to question that.

Frowning, worried, and with no firm plan to try in place, they made it back through the gate. It was near dawn on Dorieth, and no huge shadow of a temple in the grey light—Sam hadn't gotten used to that.

Only seconds after leaving the gate and walking down the path, however, they heard the rushing sound of an incoming wormhole. A chevron locked, and Sam whirled around. This was not expected.

No time to go back to the village, where they would normally be found, but would it look right to be standing there waiting?

_*It's likely just an emergency message,* _Jolinar said, hastily.

The swirl of the unstable wormhole burst forth from the gate, and Sam made her decision. Brow creased, she walked back up the path towards the stargate.

Her heart skipped a beat when no frantic messenger came through. Instead, two heavily armed and armored Jaffa, who then stood to either side.

Even Jolinar wasn't optimistic enough to think that it was Martouf and Lantash arriving as Tirnin, and Sam just worried in the few seconds there were. She took a deep breath, holding herself high. The Jaffa said nothing, and a few seconds later, Quetesh walked through the gate.

This was an answer to one of their biggest questions and worries—but with no context. Quetesh stood in the dim light, dark hair framing the contrasting pale skin of her face. Her eyes flashed like sparks in the night, and Sam was close enough to read her stance.

Anger.

—

**Author's Notes: **Thank you everyone for the feedback! It's been wonderful, and I wish I had more time to reply. Just wanted to say here, in two weeks I will be away from home on a long vacation. I should have fairly regular internet capability, so I'll be able to update this story since I have plenty of upcoming chapters already written; however, it may not be entirely on schedule. I'll do my best, but there's only so much I can do. But until I leave, we'll still be on the usual schedule.


	60. Disaster

_Warning: The next couple chapters are pretty darkly graphic, more R than PG-13, but it won't last long. Also, we're coming to the home stretch; this story only has about twenty chapters left._

**Chapter 59 - Disaster**

Sam's heart fell like a rock on seeing Quetesh there, even though she could have half guessed as soon as the Jaffa walked through. This was not the time, not at all. She scrambled for all her mental resources, Jolinar settling firmly as her back on everything, waiting for what to say.

Quetesh said nothing, and so Sam bowed in silent greeting and respect. When her head rose, Quetesh still stood there—everything was silent, on edge, the smolder before the flames caught. No birds, no breathing, no voices.

And no temple beyond. Sam wondered if Quetesh was staring right through them with her still-glowing eyes. _~So the wait's over—and I thought we were more ready for a reaction than this.~_

"My lord," Sam finally said aloud, bowing her head. "We had no word."

"And it is clear that you fail to be ready," Quetesh broke in, words smooth. She edged a couple steps forward, now thoroughly looking through Sam down towards the valley.

"We are always ready for my lord, if you will just come this way," Sam said, trying to make it not sound like a hasty retreat.

"No," Quetesh said. Jolinar adjusted Sam's eyes to the dim light, and she could see a disdain on Quetesh's face. "This planet does not even step near to worthiness. I will not let it sully me more—Coron, come." The goddess turned swiftly, only her last word sounding more like a snap then the cool voice of authority.

She nodded to a Jaffa who walked to the DHD and began to dial.

Sam turned to her one Jaffa there, saying below her breath. "Awaken your commander—tell him what has happened, and keep all going as planned." All they had to do was keep the planet going until Sam and Jolinar's return.

_*This will be a more difficult meeting than last,* _Jolinar warned, but her words were superfluous.

Once again in the pre-morning, the gate flashed open, and Quetesh's Jaffa walked in ahead of her. Sam and Jolinar were the last to go, Sam taking a breath before walking through.

It was no surprise on the other side—the gold and grey metal of the interior of a Goa'uld ship. Sam was immediately struck by the size, though. Much more like cathedral hallways than that of a cramped ship. _~We're on her mothership, aren't we?~_

Jolinar didn't need to answer specifically. There had been a reason she'd referred to it as the flagship.

Standing for a moment, Sam just concentrated on breathing and holding herself high but not too high in posture. Quetesh turned slowly, nodding to each Jaffa to leave until only one of hers was left standing guard by the gate.

"This is how a god is supposed to grant audience," Quetesh said, almost a hiss in the deep, flanged Goa'uld voice.

Sam bowed again, as Jolinar tried to stop her heart from pounding. "I beg pardon for any failure," she said, head still lowered.

"Do you?" Quetesh questioned, stepping closer to her. Her long dark gown hugged close to her, guarding more than flaunting, but Sam could almost feel the danger coming through. "What has your investigation into the destruction of my temple uncovered?"

Sam was momentarily surprised by the demand. "My lord, we had no lead," she said. "There is no one on Dorieth who might seem suspicious."

"Fool," Quetesh said in a low voice. "What gives you such insolence to make a determination such as this? Is it not your god's will that you should be serving? Is it not your god's will that no stone be left unturned before this traitor is found?"

_*She is right, if all she cares about is vengeance,* _Jolinar admitted. _*But speak to her of efficiency; there is still a chance that she values boldness, even if she dare not admit it so fully.*_

"We received no command from you, my lord," Sam said, bowing her head again. "We sought to be ready for your next command, and that required all efforts to be for the restoration of Dorieth."

"All efforts," Quetesh said, the glint in her eye matched by the quirk of her mouth. "And then why were you standing by the chappa'ai on Dorieth? What purpose served you there?"

She had noticed. They'd been afraid of that. "Only an errand to another world," Sam said.

"And for what purpose?" demanded Quetesh.

Sam realized that the Goa'uld had moved closer, almost imperceptibly. She was only a few paces away from Sam in the hallway of the ship, and suddenly it was feeling smaller. "To make sure that your orders were being followed upon, after you called for the transfer of some slaves," Sam said, Jolinar's focus helping her make something up on the spot. She still stood tall, eye level with Quetesh, but her role reminded her how small she actually was.

Quetesh let the less-than-perfect excuse hang for a second in the air. The power was in her hands, as always, and she exercised it. Jolinar's quiet discomfort was turning into fear-driven anger at being forced to this.

"Again," the Goa'uld said in a icy smooth voice, staring Sam straight in the eye. "Again, you venture outside your realm of authority. This is a dangerous pattern, Coron. And one that I do not think natural for a Jaffa."

Sam didn't even have time to blink—Quetesh's hand was in the air and suddenly she couldn't see a thing. They'd missed the hand device that Quetesh was wearing, only now they were blinded and forced backwards, the beam tearing into their forehead.

Sam gasped, unable to see, unable almost to think, physically and mentally feeling as if she was on fire. Jolinar was there, slightly removed as she had retreated to keep guard.

_*She will interrogate, or kill, or both,* _Jolinar informed.

They could barely comprehend. Sam tried only to keep all her mind on Dorieth, on Quetesh's work—it was hardly anything she needed to do, as that had been filling her thoughts before. But her knees started to tremble, her head throbbing, and she wondered if it would matter. Did Quetesh plan to execute them here? She didn't have the muscle strength to reach for her zat to retaliate. She was completely helpless.

All she could sense was the fire, behind and in front of her eyes. Her breaths started to come as gasps, even as Jolinar tried to do something, and then all in a moment she felt a new sensation. Heard it too, and smelled it. The ink of their temporary tattoo was sizzling, burning under the power of the hand device.

And then it was gone. Gulping in a breath as the hand-device released them, Sam sunk involuntarily to her knees.

_*Oh no,* _thought Jolinar.

Sam was shaken, weak, and didn't know exactly what had just happened. Until it hit her a second later. She looked up, and there was Quetesh, standing over them with a self-satisfied smirk. If Sam's heart could drop any further in her chest, it did. She didn't need Jolinar to know that the gig was up. Quetesh knew they were a spy.

"Not Jaffa, then," Quetesh said, more for the dramatic air than a need to express what was obvious to them all.

They were so doomed, and as Jolinar tried to give strength back, Sam's hand trembled and tried to reach for her zat. Quetesh hadn't killed them with that blast, not yet.

"And no Goa'uld would stoop to this level," Quetesh continued.

Sam couldn't pull her eyes away from that face, glowing with the expectation of full control and power. But just as her shaking fingers found the cool hilt of the zat, suddenly there was a blur of movement. She heard a snap and felt the blow to her jaw, then found herself flung back against the wall. Her head cracked, the pain shot down her spine, and her breath dislodged from her chest. Quetesh had struck her in the face.

"Seize this Tok'ra traitor," Quetesh hissed, even these words full of pleasure at what she had just accomplished.

_*I should have—* _thought Jolinar for a brief second. But then she and Sam both felt the warm trickle of blood from the back of her head, even as they were stopped from slipping down the wall by the Jaffa who roughly gripped one shoulder.

Jolinar retreated again, trying to stop the injury. Sam's vision was a little blurry, as the Jaffa pulled her back to Quetesh. She barely felt the Goa'uld's hand pushing aside her chainmail, finding for certain that the pouch was a facsimile.

"So, the Tok'ra have interest in me now," Quetesh said, half-drawling the words with a proud pleasure in her accomplishment.

She can't know, she can't guess. Neither Sam nor Jolinar had distinct thoughts, only they knew that the mission couldn't be compromised. Quetesh couldn't become suspicious. Suddenly Jolinar was in control, saying words that Sam had not anticipated.

"Don't flatter yourself," Jolinar spat, even through a voice as shaky as her eyesight. Their head throbbed both in front and behind. "It was nothing so grand—only a personal demonstration to your people of how inconsequential your powers to protect them are." Jolinar's words slid out like venomous acid.

Quetesh's hand, fingers sheathed by the Goa'uld device, found Jolinar's chin and forced it up. She stared down, eyes alight with cruel gold. "Jolinar," she said, and then laughed, harshly.

Jolinar closed her eyes for a second. _*I am sorry for this,* _she said.

But Sam was realizing that there wasn't anything else to be done.

Quetesh spoke again. "And here I almost thought you had retained your intelligence, even committing cowardly treason as you did," she said, gripping Jolinar's chin, the sharp edges of the metal threatening to cut into her skin.

"Fooled you thrice—and you only matched it this once," Jolinar said, through clenching teeth. "Who is the greater fool?"

Quetesh leaned closer, gripping harder to make Jolinar breathe out through tight jaw. "It is not the one who gains the final victory," the Goa'uld said.

"Then the question is still undecided," Jolinar hissed back.

Quetesh stood, lifting Jolinar by the chin, Jolinar barely able to keep from hanging there as her legs did not want to support her. "Not for long," Quetesh answered. She let Jolinar go for a second, nodding to her Jaffa.

Jolinar stumbled, almost falling to her knees, and only just caught herself as the Jaffa stripped her zat from her. Then Quetesh's hand was gripping her neck, dragging her up and forward, and Quetesh started taking long strides down one of the hallways leading from this gateroom.

_~Are we going to be dead?~ _asked Sam, unable to think of anything but simple questions.

_*Not yet,* _Jolinar answered, honestly and yet not. But she wouldn't think about the future—maybe she couldn't.

Their head still aching, Quetesh dragged them into the middle of a ring platform, and they couldn't catch the symbols before the light flashed and they were on another deck of the flagship. Again, Quetesh was dragging them as they stumbled down the hall, armor clanking. A minute later, and Quetesh threw them into a room.

Jolinar crashed to the floor, still without the strength to immediately fight back—and immediately would have been their only chance, as another two Jaffa stepped in to grab their arms. The armor was roughly stripped from them, the small weapons discovered and taken, and then the clink of chains told them what else they needed to know. Their eyes confirmed it as Jolinar looked up. This was a prison cell.

They now lay half slumped against a wall, wrists attached to chains just loose enough to allow their arms to droop limply. It had all happened fast, too fast, way too fast for their mind still muddled by both hand-device and concussion.

"Your personal revenge may have proven your own downfall, as you could have predicted," Quetesh said, as the Jaffa left the cell and slammed it shut, locking it firmly.

Jolinar could barely see her, and she once again retreated to work on healing the physical damage. Sam didn't feel in control, and all she could do was listen.

"But it is not only the personal that will satisfy me," Quetesh continued. "No, you were indeed a fool to attempt this, knowing what you do of the Tok'ra. But I need not explain this to you, surely."

Sam felt her head droop, eyes closing, her head's throbbing overwhelming and not lessening. _~Jolinar?~_

She barely heard Quetesh walk away, shoes clicking on the stone floors, dress sweeping away. Left alone in the cell, Sam sunk even further. The chains were too short for her to lie down on the floor, but she could lean against the wall. The wall of a prison cell, in Quetesh's flagship, where she was now known to be a Tok'ra spy.

_~Oh god,~ _she said to herself, and then she blacked out.

ooooooo

"Okay, now this is actually trouble," Matthews said, a hand resting on his belt.

The rest of SG-6 and Daniel and Sha're stood around, having just watched the gate fail to open again. They'd waited a couple hours and redialed Earth, only to have it malfunction. "They can't always be superfast with the fixing," Matthews had said, and everyone had agreed. It was late, so they'd settled down to spend the night there.

This morning, however—again, no luck dialing the gate.

"Major gate overhaul, maybe?" Captain Lewis asked, more calm than the rest as he leaned against a large boulder.

"No, we'd have heard of that," Dr. Donald said. He was SG-6's scientist, dealing mainly in forensics but with a slight side interest in how that related to archaeology.

"The gate could be destroyed," said Thomas in a low tone.

Daniel felt a bolt of fear run through him, and his arm around Sha're's waist tightened, holding her safely to him.

"Uh-uh," said Matthews, putting up a hand. "That's the last thing we should be thinking."

"Okay," said Lewis, resting his arms across his chest. "It's not like we can know for sure, so what are our options for things to do."

"Good question," said Matthews, waving his hand around to indicate them all, and raising an eyebrow. "What's protocol?"

"Well, if it goes too far we're supposed to contact the Alpha Site, but there's no actual time limit," said Donald, scrunching his face and scratching worriedly at the edge of his beard.

"I think 24 hours is a good limit, don't you?" said Matthews, fairly rhetoric as he was with all his questions. "At least for radio contact. Donald, dial the gate please."

Sha're looked up at Daniel, saying softly. "What do you think this means?"

"I don't know," Daniel whispered back. "I don't know."

ooooooo

Sam came back to reality with a nausea in her stomach. Her world felt empty and silent, and the nausea twisted fiercely with a rush of pure fear.

_~Jolinar?~ _She reached out for her one constant, not immediately finding her.

But she was there. More worn, and almost more frightened, but their fears were quickly tightening into one without words.

Sam had control of their body, breathing in, and it didn't hurt. _~It isn't over yet, is it?~_

_*No,* _said Jolinar, her voice coming out weakly. _*No, we have failed miserably, but not quickly.*_

Sam felt a crick in her neck and tried to move her head a few inches. It didn't overwhelm her with pain, thanks to Jolinar, but she felt groggy all the same. Bringing a hand to her face to wipe at the blood drying itchily there, she felt and heard the clank of the chains, and her heart skipped a beat. _~God, this was a disaster.~_

_*I cannot say otherwise. I am sorry, Samantha, but it is only going to get worse. We are not going to be killed yet, not while there is a chance that Quetesh may glean some information.*_

Even Jolinar couldn't keep the physical symptoms of fear under control, and Sam's mouth was dry and her heart racing. _~So what, torture?~ _It was hardly a question that needed to be asked, locked up in the prison of a Goa'uld known for sadistic enjoyment of the pain of others.

_*We should be able to resist—I have been through this before. But there is no end but death unless I can see a way out. With any other Goa'uld, maybe, but this is Quetesh and she knows me. I—*_

Jolinar's thoughts trailed off, nausea almost sending them both into retching as the fear broiled. If Jolinar didn't have a hope—if she couldn't see an end—Sam wasn't ready for this. Jolinar wasn't either, especially not like this.

_~Can we do anything?~ _Sam needed something that she could think on, even if it proved hopeless. Something to keep her mind working.

_*For others to live, we must fight now. Quetesh _cannot_ discover Martouf and Lantash, or the Abydonians' cooperation, or any information that may be used against the Tok'ra. And if we are afraid and nervous, it will only be too easy.*_

_~Jolinar, I know, but are you saying you can just calm down?~_

_*What else is there to do?*_

Jolinar's weak words just made their desperation more real. Sam was trying to calm down, trying to think of others, but all she felt was Jolinar's memory of exactly how cruel Quetesh could be. And if Jolinar, who had been under torture before, could feel that—Sam had no sense of what to expect, and so she could only expect the very worst.

Sam kept her eyes closed, her arms resting loosely across her chest. With Jolinar she worked on breathing in, breathing out, and trying to force order on her senses. Whatever happened, if they were doomed to die here, they needed to go out in control of everything. Neither of them could bear to die having given up information—together, surely they could will another goal.

No pomp accompanied Quetesh when she returned. It had most likely been hours, hours of sitting and breathing and Jolinar not letting Sam think about the torture in Jolinar's past. Quetesh had added a long sleeved leather coat over her dark dress, short horn-like spikes adorning the shoulders and running down the sleeves to cover the back of her hands. No longer merely elegant and ornate, this was the to-business side of Quetesh. The practical side, if she had one. And that business was fear.

The two Jaffa guards who had stood at the cell door were dismissed several paces down the hall on either side, after unlocking the cell door and letting Quetesh in before locking it again. Quetesh carried a small box in one hand, and she smiled glitteringly as she placed it on the shelf along the cell wall.

"I was too hasty earlier," she said, voice softly reverberating off the walls, the metallic purr of self-satisfaction. She stood over Sam and Jolinar, still standing tall and straight.

Jolinar didn't move or speak.

"In my anger at having to deal with your disgusting presence once again, I almost lost control," Quetesh continued, glancing down without stooping her head. She smiled. "But it is well that I am a god, and can make no error." She let one of her long arms fall, the tip of one finger flicking the tip of Jolinar's chin. "This is too much a prize to waste through unconsidered acts of passion."

"It might have worked better for you," Jolinar said, clearing her throat a little as she once again used her natural voice, sounding husky after so much time as Coron. "Caught off guard is the only way you could possibly hope to sway me."

"You may think what you wish, of course," said Quetesh, still smiling. "That is what is so amusing, the delusions of one of the least of the children of our mother Neith." With a light sigh, Quetesh took a seat on the bench nearest Jolinar, leaning down with dripping condescension. "To sway a mind, one must first break it."

"I break only upon death," Jolinar assured, her stare holding Quetesh's from beneath hooded eyes. Sam whispered to herself that she could believe that, she would believe that.

Quetesh laughed, a hollow laugh, more to mock than out of any amusement. "There are so many ways to break, Jolinar," she said. "Humiliation and degredation, crude tools but most useful. I know you too well to try them here, but for accuracy's sake I mention them." She leaned a little closer, looking Jolinar straight in the eye. "The mind—never whole or wholly impenetrable."

The fear was under control, this talk no more than they had expected. Jolinar held the control, Sam backing her as strongly as she could. They watched as Quetesh rose from her seat.

"Still," Quetesh said, with a half a sigh, "it is so delicate and difficult to break through the mind all at once." She bent down swiftly, finding Jolinar's left hand and slamming it against the wall. It almost didn't hurt, just bruising the knuckles, until Quetesh flipped her hand, letting the spike on the end of the sleeve press against Jolinar's palm. "And yet there is physical breaking," Quetesh said in a low voice, her face close to Jolinar's again.

She pressed down, and there was a sharp jolt of pain as the spike dug into Jolinar's palm. In the moment, Sam couldn't tell that she was supposed to be buried behind Jolinar's mind—the pain was just as piercing. Quetesh slowly pushed the spike in, and Jolinar didn't look, only gritted her jaw and tried not to focus on the burning and the trickle of warm blood already starting to seep.

"Ah yes, the limits of the body of a host," said Quetesh. "And of yours, Jolinar. These are so much easier to find, and even the mind cannot provide significant protection."

Jolinar tried to keep a steady breathing pace, but Quetesh pushed harder, then as the short spike was buried to its hilt, she twisted, and the pain throbbed agonizingly up their arm. Sam tried to not see, tried to not hear, tried to maintain her presence like a rock to lean upon—so that she might not feel the pain and so that Jolinar need not feel as if she might fall.

"But then the breaking of a body is only enjoyable, not useful," concluded Quetesh. She whipped the spike from Jolinar's hand, and Jolinar didn't have the presence of mind to break its fall.

The blood started to pool in her palm, and Jolinar brought her other hand over, pressing against the wound as she sought to still the bleeding.

"And so why not both?" Quetesh asked, her voice light again. "Break the body to break the mind to break the body, and all so carefully done. I have no need to hurry, no information so urgent that I must fight time to break you. The only thing I fight against is you, Jolinar. Your armor, and your healing."

Jolinar closed her eyes for a second, left hand starting to tremble even as the bleeding slowed. Sam was still holding strong, but she had heard. Was Jolinar's healing a weapon against Quetesh, or just a way to prolong their suffering? It would have been both, only that Jolinar might be able to stop some of the pain, or change it.

Quetesh turned from Jolinar, and in the quiet of the cell Jolinar heard the tiny splash from the drop of blood that fell from Quetesh's armored hand. The Goa'uld took the box she had brought from the shelf, opening it and taking out something too small to see.

"No, Jolinar, your armor will not last for long," Quetesh said, stepping closer. "Soon it will be just you and me—history repeating itself, only the proper way."

Quetesh grabbed Jolinar's hair in a tight fist, yanking her head down so the neck was exposed. Then a piercing pain at the back of the neck, and the cold feeling of an injection that almost immediately started to burn. Sam suddenly felt herself pushed forward in her mind as Jolinar physically spasmed, the injection going straight into her actual body. Sam was in control, looking back up as Quetesh smiled down on them, holding the small injector in her hand.

"Now, shall we let that sink in a little first?" Quetesh asked, twisted amusement in both smile and voice.

Except Sam could barely read her face, as Jolinar still shook, and Sam was reminded just how closely they were entwined. Her muscles started to randomly jerk, and if she'd been standing she would have felt dizzy.

_~Jol?~ _she asked.

_*She is inhibiting me somehow,* _Jolinar answered shakily. They were almost on the point of heaving again. _*I can only speak, only think.*_

Sam felt her body settle to a slight tremble, but the burn at the back of her throat where Jolinar lay now spread, descending to the tips of her limbs. Already the ache in her hand felt on fire, the blood only just stopped as Jolinar lost her healing abilities.

Jolinar's silent revelation hit Sam more strongly. They had been overconfident. It was what had got them into this mess, what had led them to all their mistakes, and what was now leaving them without an option. Quetesh had now stripped it from them, leaving them vulnerable and guilty and afraid.

_*We can't be,* _Jolinar said, struggling to regain control.

And Sam didn't want to, but all she could see was Quetesh standing over them. And her fear of death left her empty inside.


	61. Torment

_Warning: This chapter contains heavy torture scenes. I'll try to have the next chapter out sooner than usual, since I know this is not fun reading. This is as dark as it gets._

—

**Chapter 60 - Torment**

Life was torment when you waited with no end in sight.

Matthews had contacted the Alpha Site, but no one knew anything about Earth. SG-6 was advised to stay in their current location, assuming it was safe, and carry on with their mission if possible. The Alpha Site would check in with them, along with any other offworld teams that were stranded, every 24 hours.

"And that's that," said Matthews with a sigh.

They were all worried, possibly close to panic, but held it in. What if the Goa'uld had finally snuck past Earth's meager defenses? What if it was another hostile alien race?

No one thought about gate malfunctions as an option any more. Were the gate truly unoperational for this long, they would have brought in the Antarctic gate. No one mentioned this, because it meant that something probably disastrous had happened to their home planet. But it seemed like the only option.

Daniel focused back on an archaeology dig he had been prepared to leave. Sha're borrowed Thomas' few books on the subject, bouncing Shifu on one knee as she buried herself in the text. He knew the feeling all too well to question it in her.

Another day came and went, another night with Sha're and Shifu in his arms under the stars. Another check-up on the Alpha Site, and still no word.

There was almost nothing left to be archaeologically discovered. No more ruins or remains, and the ones they'd found already examined. Daniel had always regretted that SG-1 never had enough time to fully explore. Now he did, and there wasn't much there.

Thomas and Donald started work on their mission reports, Lewis and Matthews alternated between standing the required guard and wandering off to waste time. Daniel just looked at the artifacts, over and over, wondering if he could will himself to find something significant.

Another day, another night, another check-up. The Alpha Site had heard from SG-4, but no other team. According to the schedule, SG-10 was supposed to be out for another couple days, so it was possible that they hadn't checked back in. Other than that, though, they were all the people from Earth they could contact.

"At some point we need to contact our allies," said Matthews, relaying the information. "But especially the Asgard—the Nox and the Tollan if we can manage 'em. Sending a ship to Earth is the only way we'll know squat for sure."

"And if not?" Dr. Donald asked, more worry than challenge in his voice.

"Then we beg for asylum as refugees," Matthews said, jaw set.

It was only then that it hit Daniel that all his friends would have been on Earth. He was the only member of SG-1 to go offworld during that time frame. And not only SG-1, but Dr. Frasier, the Millers, Dr. Jordan, Sara O'Neill, and anyone and everyone he'd been connected to. All centered around his homeworld.

He held onto Sha're, feeling worried and weak, just holding her and feeling Shifu between them, the only sparks of life he knew. She knew how he felt, for her people were still out there. Skaara, still a host; Kasuf, a prisoner of another Goa'uld. Even though most of her people were safe, she still ached for those in slavery.

With Sha're at his side, Daniel started taking walks, moving so that his mind would not rest and be lost in the waiting. The waiting might kill him.

Another day, another night, another update, and still no one could contact Earth.

ooooooo

Life was torment when you waited with no end in sight.

Quetesh didn't ask questions at first. She let her hand device do the talking, its beam reaching into Sam and Jolinar's mind, twisting and muddling and blending any conscious thoughts they had. It still burned from the last time—now they wanted to scream, and yet couldn't. Sam felt like her mind would melt away; Jolinar dreaded because she knew it wouldn't.

Quetesh grew tired of the hand device and brought forward a Jaffa torture stick, and Sam gasped and collapsed forward in pain but it wasn't significantly worse when the forked ends of the stick was jabbed into their stomach. She cried out voicelessly, the pain ripping through her body, and her mind wanted to retreat into Jolinar's, except Jolinar's was writhing as well. In the world of pain, each new addition didn't hurt so much more, as long as they didn't have time to remember what no pain felt like.

Quetesh watched carefully, measuring with cold eyes the tremors and shakes and sweat, finally stopping as some imaginary limit was reached. Sam and Jolinar were bent over, unable to crumple fully on the floor due to the short chains. But they hung limply, forehead taking comfort in resting on the cold metal that soothed the burn.

Jolinar couldn't slow their heart, or even keep it at a steady beat. Sam was still in control, if she could think of it like that, but retreating back against Jolinar's consciousness in her mind. Her breaths came in ragged, uneven gulps, each one hurting as all her nerves were on fire. But the overwhelming pain that felt like death started to fade.

"So simple," Quetesh murmured above them. She reached down a hand, pulling their head up by the hair, looking into Sam's pain-ravaged face. "So fragile, and yet always forgetting and taking pride."

Sam couldn't open her eyes to look at her, could barely feel the ends of her hair protesting as Quetesh twisted tighter, and as Sam's neck could barely support her own head. And when she couldn't look up in defiance, all she could do was listen, and the words made it past the confusion in her mind. This was their fault. It was all their fault. Why couldn't they have been more careful, more discreet? Why did they think luck was so much on their side that they could risk so much? Why did they think they could manage it all?

Jolinar was a small presence in her mind, curled in on herself before Sam even tried to shrink back into her. Her thoughts were tight and fast, and Sam couldn't understand them. But her emotion was guilt, and it wracked Sam physically almost as much as the pain. They had failed.

And then, as the pain mellowed, her body fell back from the limits Quetesh had pushed it to. Then, just before any wait would have been a reprieve, Quetesh jabbed the stick into Sam's collarbone, and they were gone again.

"Do you think you deserve this pain? All those who you claimed allegiance to, but you led me to them. Is this not yours to take for many centuries, one for each life I stole because of your deeds?"

Sam could barely remember what Quetesh's words even meant, what error Jolinar had made that nearly led the Goa'uld straight to the Tok'ra. The operative she'd discovered had been tortured to insanity, villages in Quetesh's path wiped off the face of their planets. Jolinar ached at the memory, and Sam could not handle it right now. She cried out for that aching pain.

And then Quetesh granted her more immediate pain, over and over, the cruel jabs eating away at their life until it was too dangerous. Jolinar helpless to heal, at Quetesh's mercy whether to live or be tortured to death. But she backed off, letting the pain dissipate just enough, letting the heart and breathing recover adequately. All the while just standing and waiting for the moment to start again.

Another two cycles of this, and Sam barely noticed as Quetesh turned away from them. Weary of this game, and perhaps knowing it couldn't go on forever, she passed out of the room. The cell door slammed shut, and the Jaffa took their place again.

Sam kept her mouth clamped shut, not wanting to whimper for their benefit. With tight, short movements, she tried to find a way to relieve any of the pressure on her aching body. Slipping a little, she lay down on her back on the cool floor. Her arms were suspended in the air, manacles barely starting to chafe.

Eyes shut, she found Jolinar, or rather saw her more clearly. She had always been there, feeling and holding tight. But with every fresh wave of pain, Sam had felt like she was slipping away with the rest of her mind.

_*I am so sorry.*_ The words were like gasps, even though just thoughts.

Sam felt everything, and a lump in her throat rose unbidden.

_*I did not want you hurt.*_

_~I could take it,~_ Sam admitted, struggling with the thought. _~I thought she might break you.~_

_*No, not even—no.* _These words were steady, fiercely honest. Sam felt all of Jolinar reaching for her, enveloping her in a being only slightly less in pain._ *But the more I tried to protect it from you, the more I could not ease the control you bore. I am sorry. I was lost.*_

_~I don't think it mattered,~ _Sam admitted wearily. The cool metal of the floor was starting to lose its charm already, the chill wearing away and taking its place was the chafing against the burning still in every limb. There was no relief.

_*Do you want to be protected?*_

Jolinar felt Sam drifting out of focus, and Sam welcomed it, but she tried to answer the question. _~I don't even know what that means anymore.~_

And because she truly didn't, Jolinar knew what to do. _*You cannot fade without hope, Samantha. Your mind will not allow your body to heal if there is no hope. I cannot help this now, only you can. You must stay yourself.*_

Jolinar pushed her feelings on her, tried to make them clear. Sam thought she could grasp onto something. _~Were you protecting your past from me?~_

_*Protecting you from my past,* _Jolinar corrected. _*I did not want you to bear it. But I do not know if facing the real pain alone was right.*_

_~Jolinar, I need to rest,~_ Sam said, knowing that Jolinar knew. _~But I want to hear. I need to hear. I can't face this in the dark.~_

_*I know,* Jolinar said. *I will not make you.*_

A tear leaked from Sam's eye, and she shut them tighter, felt the sting. In all of this, she had not felt such reassurance, such words she somehow knew and felt to be true. But she needed any kind of healing rest allowed, and so she let the world turn black around her as she faded into unconsciousness.

ooooooo

She woke to a jerking on her arms, as a Jaffa pulled her upright by her chains, locking them higher on the wall. Sam had just enough strength to keep from hanging.

"Leave," Quetesh ordered the Jaffa, and in a few seconds they were alone together in the locked cell. Quetesh looked the same, only with her long hair drawn back out of her face so that it wouldn't get in her way. She leaned close, running her long nails along the welt across Sam's collarbone that the torture stick had left. "Such a waste for this body," she murmured, eyes flashing.

 "Go to hell," whispered Sam sharply, pulling herself upright with all she had.

"Perhaps I will send you there first," said Quetesh, raking a sharp fingernail up Sam's neck and watching trickle of blood follow. "But oh, Jolinar, I should have known that you would hide behind this pale shadow of a host." She flicked out a small knife.

Jolinar burned from the back of their mind, Sam feeling her utter outrage. She had no strength, but she wanted it so strongly to bite back.

"Do you tell yourself that you hide to protect yourself from breaking and giving me what I want?" Quetesh asked, dragging the tip of her small blade along Sam's arm as she hung there.

Jolinar wasn't shrinking away. She was itching with anger, defensiveness. With all that in her mind, she and Sam barely felt when Quetesh flicked the point of the blade along their forearm. The shallow cut burned from some kind of substance on the blade, but it didn't burn stronger than their anger. Anger at being helpless like this, but more anger at Quetesh for existing.

"Oh, but I know your true mind," Quetesh said, her grin wide and malicious. "These bodies are so replaceable. You think if you retreat, I will have to break this one to get to you." Her free hand pushed Sam's body against the wall, lingering on her hip for a second. "But this is such a good host. No, I will not kill her. It would be easier for you, to escape this body and all the scars that will come with it. But no, I will not let you abandon her."

Sam felt a growl escape her throat, and then Jolinar was in control. Her eyes flashed, and even bound by chains she moved towards Quetesh, longing to be released so she could break her neck.

"Jolinar," Quetesh acknowledged, a vague humor on her face.

"As always," Jolinar hissed to her, eyes glaring through her.

"Don't act so fierce," Quetesh rebuked, moving closer to Jolinar, pushing her back until the wall prevented a further retreat. Her hand still held the knife to Jolinar's arm, the tip pressing against the skin with light pressure. "It would not be an invalid assumption. How many times before have you left a host just when it grows...difficult?"

Jolinar gritted her teeth, but didn't answer. Quetesh had done nothing yet, but a jab of pain shot through Jolinar's mind. She had never regretted her choices in that matter, but now as Quetesh dared think her a coward and detached from her host—she had no evidence but her own thoughts to defend her. Maybe her thoughts were delusional.

Quetesh went back to physical pain, slicing another mark in Jolinar's arm and letting the blood drip slowly to the cell floor.

Jolinar couldn't consider herself emotionally uncompromised. Sam didn't believe any of it, and Jolinar didn't ask her to—but it lurked at the back of their minds, the emotional distress sending waves of nausea through their body again.

Quetesh didn't look at them again, slowly carving small scratches along Jolinar's arms, drawing closer to her neck. They burned as if with poison, but that was no promise of relief.

_*She won't kill us, even if she used the sarcophagus,_* Jolinar said, forcing her mind away from this pain before Quetesh decided to make it overwhelming._ *She doesn't want my kalmach to become cold and hard.*_

Sam knew what was behind those words, the acknowledgment that the more tender the emotion, the more Quetesh could twist it to hurt.

"I remove the option of abandonment from you," Quetesh said, voice smooth and low, gazing over her handiwork. "And I give you what you hate to desire. Penance for the lives lost, feeling their pain for as long as possible."

_*I do not need—I do not have so much self hate.*_ Thoughts coming brokenly, the physical burning intensifying. Neither could read just how much denial might be in those words.

Jolinar's eyes were still opened, even as her jaw clenched to deal with the pain.

 Quetesh drew within a few inches of her face. There was no gold of emotion in those wide grey eyes, only sharp determination. She whispered, "And you want it to break you."

She stepped back, and then snapped her hand in a small arc, cutting a stripe down Jolinar's cheek and neck. "I am sometimes generous," Quetesh said, nodding to the Jaffa to come back in.

Jolinar choked back a cry, and as the Jaffa lowered her chains to their original length, she fell to her knees and clasped a shaky hand to the blood spilling from this deeper cut, pressing the now-stained fabric of her tunic against it.

"Do not worry, Jolinar," Quetesh said, as the Jaffa locked the door between her and Jolinar. Jolinar barely had the strength to keep her hands putting pressure on the wound; her eyes stayed lowered, but her ears caught Quetesh's last words. "I will give you what you want."

And she was gone again. Quetesh's drug had damaged Jolinar's ability to keep control of her limbs, and she wavered before Sam took it back, applying the right pressure. It was the only thing either of them could do to stop the bleeding, and Jolinar hated it.

_~She's right, isn't she?~_ Sam asked. _~You hate yourself.~_

_*I hate what I've done. There is a difference.*_

_~Is there? Jolinar, it's not just what happened with Quetesh. There's something else, something you were protecting me from. I need to know now.~_

Jolinar neither said nor felt anything for a moment. Sam felt the affects of so many fresh wounds laced with some aggravating chemical, and the pain and physical shock started to overwhelm her mind. Light-headed, she leaned against the wall again, her back thankfully unmarked.

_*Before I entered the court of Apophis, I failed in my role in the court of Sokar.*_ At first only words came, Jolinar's emotions lacking. _*He is lord of an inescapable prison of neverending torment, the moon of Netu. He only considered me a faulty servant, and did not discover that I was a Tok'ra spy, so he did not interrogate me. Only sentenced me to eternal punishment at the hands of his more faithful servant. Bynarr.*_

Jolinar did not want to bring up this memory, not after she'd hidden it for all this time. And as Sam started to feel the never-expressed emotions rising, she could only brace herself. But it wouldn't be enough, she realized as Jolinar couldn't pull only the facts forth. The memory itself was coming to life in their mind.

Jolinar's thoughts stopped, as the memory overcame them both. Sam tried to shut her eyes mentally, blocking the visions so that she might feel the least impact. But soon she felt the heat of Netu, the cold grip of Bynarr's hand on Jolinar's thigh, the violating closeness of his body, the heavy breathing in her ear and on her neck. She felt Jolinar tremble, and it didn't matter that it was Rosha's body, because it might as well be Sam's that felt compromised.

That cell on Netu swirled in full color in their mind, and a mutual shiver ran through them as Jolinar stepped from the bed in the memory, pulling the thin white dress up over her shoulder again. A hand wiped on the dress, but only symbolically—there was too much to just wipe away.

And then Jolinar escaped. Her physical injuries masked everything else when the Tok'ra found her, and she tried to keep it that way. Martouf and Lantash didn't know, and Jolinar never wanted them to. Like with Sam, she hadn't wanted them to live with that pain. But more, she still wasn't sure it was worth it. All logic told her it was, that it was more important to escape and live, and the tactics she used were nothing but cold strategy—they didn't mean anything. Emotion told her otherwise, and emotion shaped the lingering self-doubt and distress that she buried beneath everything else.

Sam thought she'd be the one going, "Oh, it's not so bad." And she could feel that Jolinar had counted on it, just assumed that Sam would give it an optimistic and not-quite-understanding treatment. Sam didn't say anything, though, and couldn't feel anything but the pain Jolinar had reluctantly given her.

It didn't make things better. Neither of them could have truly expected that. But they were now on the same page. In the throes of pain, every position uncomfortable and the manacles still chafing, somehow it was easier to be just one whirlpool of—everything. Not better, but easier.

_~I don't want to die,~_ Sam whispered, clamping her eyes shut as another pulse of pain shot through her whole body.

Not optimistic, but Jolinar had never been so close. Exhausted sleep found them, one mind reeling in the dark of a Goa'uld cell, glad for the respite.

ooooooo

By the time Quetesh started asking the serious questions, they hardly understood them. Dehydrated, pain-worn, and hungry, that would have been distraction enough. But she brought in the torture stick again, and they could only embrace the agonizing oblivion of its beam because they couldn't think of how to find strength to fight it.

Quetesh didn't expect them to answer the questions. She didn't wait for answers before wracking their ever-more-fragile body. Jolinar wasn't sure she even knew them, but it wasn't what mattered. Over and over, the words were the only thing they could hear above the ringing and roar of the torture stick, blinding all their senses. They were meant to absorb the questions; the questions were meant to fill the pain-induced emptiness in their mind.

Jolinar knew all this, and yet could not stop the questions from repeating. Where is the Tok'ra home-world? How many operatives are among the Goa'uld? Which System Lords do you have targeted? They crowded the half-dreaming sleep Quetesh left her in for a few hours.

She pushed too hard, though, and Sam and Jolinar lost consciousness. They didn't know for how long, only that when they came to they dared not open their eyes. They could hear Quetesh right there, waiting, and they couldn't bear to give her a sign.

_~Dorieth must be safe, or she'd use it against us,_~ Sam said.

_*And Martouf and Lantash. She has kept us under the radar, in case she doesn't get anything. She doesn't want anyone to know.*_

_~It'll make it easier for them, not having any choice to make.~_

_*It is easier for us.*_

Alone, without hope of rescue. Sam never thought she'd be glad of it. But knowing Quetesh, any attempt would have been fraught with danger, and it was better to have no conflicting loyalties for Quetesh to threaten with. No lives to hang over their head but their own. And no way for them to feel alone with each other near, even as the distinction started to blur, becoming identity instead of companionship.

Their deception only lasted a few seconds.

"Perhaps you are weary of this?" Quetesh said, falling to one knee by them in a mock-sympathetic stance. "And yet you know it will not end, do you not?"

She had her spiked coat on again, and used the end of the sleeve that reached down to the back of her hand, pushing the spike under Jolinar's chin to force her to use her strength to lift her head.

"But you also know that it is of no matter to me," Quetesh said again, smiling crookedly. "I have seen you break under pressure, become something else. Something weaker. I shall do it again, eventually. You cannot go against your nature; soon you will break, and your weaker mind will not care what information it gives."

Jolinar gritted her teeth. "I gained strength by joining the Tok'ra," she whispered, voice too cracked for anything else.

"Is that so," Quetesh said, enunciating each word correctly, and then throwing a cold laugh back. "Admit it, Jolinar—it takes less strength to give in to a host. Pitiful things that they are. Is yours even there? Or do I have your mind to myself?"

Sam was sick of this attempt at manipulation, and she didn't have time to think. She acted, pushing herself past Jolinar's consciousness, grabbing control. She jerked her head back off the spike Quetesh was holding against her throat, using what leverage she had in her chains to slam it down on the cell floor before Quetesh could react.

"It is you who look weak now," she forced out, looking straight into Quetesh's eyes. The Goa'uld was stunned for a moment, her hand still pinned against the floor. "Your mind is shallow, and so you make up for it with strength, but you forget that you know nothing. You should be afraid, Quetesh—there are not two minds to break separately, but something bigger than even the strongest mind on its own. I'm not going down until Jolinar does—and she's not either. We're bound together, and you'll have to break _that_."

Sam lost it, her arm collapsing and her body sinking again. "That is the strength of the Tok'ra," she murmured, as the world spun from the exertion. Jolinar was still there, surprised at the sudden control, but feeling as if words had finally said what she could not express through emotions. And that was greater strength than physical.

Quetesh made no sound despite Sam's hopes. She wanted the words to sting, to provoke a reaction. Jolinar knew better.

They felt Quetesh's hand grip their throat, and then slam them back against the wall. They saw stars, and then couldn't catch their breath, Quetesh's grip closing off their air.

"The only undefeatable strength is in power, ultimate power," Quetesh said, her voice low but dripping with bitter disdain. Sam barely kept her eyes open as she tried to gasp for breath. "And the Tok'ra are powerless," Quetesh finished, joyous hatred in her eyes.

With her other hand she reached for something, and Sam didn't have time to see before Quetesh thrust the knife up under her ribs.

Sam gurgled, choking on the jabbing sensation in her abdomen, the invasive feeling of the knife almost worse than the pain. Quetesh let go of her throat, ripping the knife free with a terrible sound. But as Sam doubled over, gasping in breaths that were now painful, the Goa'uld's hand trailed to Sam's. She scooped the hand that had pinned hers, long nails gently raking over the shaking fingers.

Sam heard the snap of bone before she felt it, as Quetesh broke her little finger. But she couldn't scream.

"Powerless," Quetesh said again. Another crack, another finger on the offending hand broken. "Powerless."

Jolinar pushed out with her mind, trying to shield Sam if at all possible, cursing Quetesh's drug for her failure.

"Powerless," Quetesh whispered in her ear, and broke the third finger.

Sam fell forward, darkness enveloping her.

ooooooo

"You know," said Lewis, the flames of the campfire getting rid of only the physical shadows on his face. His voice was empty.

Daniel looked up, sitting on the ground with Sha're leaned back in his arms, warmth and closeness taking the place of words.

"You know," repeated Lewis, poking a stick into the fire. "Someday we're going to have to accept that Earth is destroyed, and we're just lost in a hostile galaxy."

Daniel swallowed. "No," he said, almost low enough to be a whisper. "Not yet."


	62. Crossroads

**Chapter 61 - Crossroads**

Jolinar woke before Sam, and if Sam could be glad about anything it would be that, the chance to avoid feeling those first feelings. Physically, they were almost on their last mile, but the defiance that had cost them a dangerous wound had left their minds almost untouched—two sides of the same coin, Sam would have thought. Quetesh might strike out at their body, but she hadn't found a way to touch that.

But it was only in the dreariness of half-sleep that Sam's mind whirled, before consciousness flooded her with too many sensations. A Jaffa had half-bandaged them while they lay unconscious, stopping the bleeding from the stab wound in their side. He had not cleaned it, though, and a fever was starting to rage through them. Sweat dripped down, stinging in their still-unhealed wounds. Her left hand throbbed, swollen where the three broken fingers were starting to set unevenly.

_*I cannot heal,*_ Jolinar said, her voice thin and almost forlorn. Not helpless, not yet.

But when every inch of their body ached, it didn't really seem to matter. The pain was too much, and Jolinar vomited up what little bile was in her empty stomach. Their throat burned, and the retching twisted at the new wound in their abdomen. Jolinar barely had the mind to worry about internal damage, if that even mattered, if they even survived long enough to die from that.

The Jaffa had also left a small cup of water, only the second in the five days trapped in this cycle of torture. Cruelly, it lay just out of reach of their good hand. Jolinar tensed her jaw tightly, trying to reach for it with only the thumb and forefinger of her damaged left hand. But it didn't work, and she hissed through her teeth as she tried to bring the cup to her without nudging the swollen fingers. The cup spilled a little, a few precious droplets lost to the floor, but they managed to soothe the burn of bile in their throat and dampen their cracked lips.

A tear squeezed from one eye as Jolinar's broken hand released the empty cup. Her breaths came in harsh and gasping, but they were sobs of pain and near-despair.

_*I am sorry, I am sorry,*_ her thoughts flailed, not knowing why she said it, only that it was something she might not have done enough.

The sobs wracked their body almost as much as anything else. Sam tried to apologize back, because somewhere she knew that her impetuousness and naivete had gotten them here, maybe more than whatever Jolinar considered her fault.

But the tears washed the guilt into one, and truly they couldn't see where one idea ended and another began. It had all been too entwined to differentiate blame.

While it was still quiet, while they were still at rest, Jolinar let control loose. Sam felt their consciousnesses blanketing each other, clinging for what support they could still offer. Jolinar felt that it would probably be over soon, at least for a while.

Sam felt her eyes flick open for a second, and her bleary vision cleared for a second as she saw only the floor. There, by the cup. Her eyes closed again, but she tried to open them. Tried to focus.

In the fever of their mind, Jolinar thought Sam was imagining something. Sam couldn't reach to the floor with her hands, still bound. Her legs were still almost untouched, like her back—it had given them little comfort before, but now she struggled to untangle her leg. With her bare foot, she reached for what she seemed to see.

And her foot found it. Jolinar named it first. _*The spike.*_

_~When I pushed her hand to the floor...~_ Sam managed to grip the small black object with her toes, bringing it closer so that she could grab it with her hand.

Almost three inches of black metal, and now it was theirs.

They heard footsteps approaching, and Sam quickly twisted her arm, even as more pain shot up it. She pierced the spike into the back of their tunic, and then waited for Quetesh's return.

_*Is it any hope?*_ Jolinar wondered.

Sam didn't have time for an answer.

ooooooo

"I'm not ready yet," Daniel said, even as the words were almost denial. SG-6 was about ready to permanently withdraw to the Alpha Site, as the base prepared to possibly accept news of apocalypse on Earth.

Sha're sat before him, their legs crossed, Shifu in between them again. The Abydonian ceremony of bringing peace to a child seemed more fitting now than ever, and they hoped it would bring them peace as well.

"You know, I'd been ready before," Daniel said. He brushed his fingers over Sha're's hand. "When they almost closed the Stargate Program down, I planned to escape through the gate."

"But you did not know where I was," said Sha're, interested.

"I would have found you," Daniel said, looking her in the eye. "I would have fought Apophis all on my own, and I would have saved you somehow. I was ready to leave Earth behind forever and devote my life to you."

Sha're's brow creased, the impact of his words touching her, giving her reason to think.

"Now I may have to do that, and it's not so easy," he said quietly. SG-1 had always been important to him, almost the only thing he cared about on his planet. But he'd spread his wings since then, drawing others close, too close to abandon.

"You will be welcome on New Abydos, Dan'yel," Sha're said, caressing his hand back. "And we may rebuild our society."

"I know," said Daniel. "And I can probably make it my home again, eventually."

"But I know it is not the same," Sha're said, nodding.

Shifu burbled, and they both glanced down, faces softening.

Daniel hoped he wasn't being too selfish, asking for more than freedom and a family. A stray thought darted to the front of his mind. "Sha're, do you have a way to contact Sam?" Part of him thought the answer might bring him pain, but it needed to be addressed again.

Sha're shook her head. "It could not be risked. Even though it was likely you would not demand such information, if I was ever captured it could be forced from me."

Daniel nodded, grimly. "Do you miss her?" he asked, looking closely at his wife.

She nodded sadly. "More than I thought."

Daniel gripped her hand, heart twisting in a knot again. "That's good. Because sometimes, I'm afraid I don't miss her enough." Sometimes he forgot that she'd been on his team.

Sha're had nothing to say, but just held his hand, and they continue the ritual for some time more.

ooooooo

Sam and Jolinar's fever got worse, and judging from Quetesh's emotionless gaze, she seemed to think it punishment enough for the day. They couldn't have taken any more in any case.

She took her stand in the cell, her voice even and low as she just went through a list of questions. This time she paused after each one, just long enough for Sam and Jolinar to have a split second to bite down hard and refuse to answer.

_~Maybe we will go mad,~_ Sam thought, as the fever ravaged her focus, the neverending questions a maddening sound. Jolinar wanted to reach out and strike it away, do anything to make it stop.

Quetesh had infinite patience. Every question, about every little Tok'ra aspect that the Goa'uld concerned themselves with. Sam hadn't known all of this before, but she didn't care now. All she cared about was to have something other than the questions in her head tempting her.

_*She may leave, let us recover enough for more torture,*_ Jolinar said.

And even the Goa'uld eventually saw that there was no point. Nearly passed out against the cell wall, Sam's dry eyes lay wearily shut, her slow shallow breaths passing through chapped and broken lips. Quetesh sighed, and finally left.

Not knowing how much there would be, Sam grasped onto this bit of silence for a few seconds, soaking in its comforting presence.

_*What did you find?* _Jolinar asked, with effort throwing their mind back a few hours.

_~A lock pick, essentially,~ _Sam answered, finding just enough strength to focus. Their minds ached with the physical throbbing, but it had not overcome them yet.

_*You can free these chains?*_

Sam reached for the spike she'd hidden in the back of their tunic, opening her eyes to make sure that no one was watching. The Jaffa were still positioned some way down the hall, and the hard floors would alert any other approaching presence. Sam kept her broken hand resting in her lap, as comfortable as she could get it. Even thinking about it made it hurt more.

She brought her other hand over, using her good hand to pick at the other manacle's lock. Her eyes had a hard time focusing, and her hand occasionally jerked out of her control. But the rest and the silence already felt like healing, and the more she worked the easier she felt it get.

It felt like an hour before anything clicked in the lock. The manacle opened, and Sam breathed in shortly.

_*Not now,*_ Jolinar said quickly, and Sam felt the warning too.

She clicked the lock back closed, and breathed out. What was the point of using their one, only, escape chance without a plan. How would they get out of the cell itself? How would they get to the rings, to the gate?

But Jolinar didn't squash the hope, and together they cradled it between them, wanting it to grow but not knowing how.

_~What do we do?~_ asked Sam. Her thoughts still felt a little slurred. _~This cell is locked manually, which is strange, right?~_

_*It can't hurt to try to open it,*_ Jolinar said. _*Not if we can get out.*_

_~Jolinar, I may really lose it if we get caught again.~_

_*I know. We have to wait.*_

Sam closed her eyes. She hadn't seen the lock, and she wasn't an expert. But she'd heard it lock several times now, and could almost see it from inside the cell. It wasn't the best information, but it was something.

They'd survived almost a week of this interrogation; waiting up to a few more days for a real chance at escape was the only logical choice.

Quetesh came back, possibly hours later—they didn't know, being sound asleep. Again, she seemed to judge them too weak for any real enjoyment, so she stuck to the practical. Questions again, and Jolinar almost started giving answers. Some outrageous, some teasingly close to accurate, they popped into her mind during the interrogation. But she wouldn't even give Quetesh that much. She clenched their jaw and remained silent.

That night almost seemed a relief, if it was a night after all.

When Quetesh came the next day, they were awake, and Jolinar tried to focus on the exact sounds and sights of the lock as she entered. Whatever information she got was stuffed down swiftly, because she'd missed the device on Quetesh's hand.

Not a hand device. Sam had never seen it, but she knew automatically—hara'kash.

_~Jolinar?~_ Sam said, suddenly worried more than ever before.

_*Samantha...do not worry, it is only for me.*_

_~Don't be an idiot, Jolinar,~_ Sam snapped, heart racing. _~Even if I can't feel it, what hurts you—could kill you—~_ She broke off, worry and weakness stealing her words.

Quetesh had aimed for Sam's body earlier, weakening the host to damage Jolinar's mind. It hadn't gone far enough, and now she brought the easiest path to breaking Jolinar herself. Sam didn't need to have Jolinar lay it out in detail to know exactly what kind of injury the symbiote herself would undergo. With her healing impaired, not even Quetesh could know exactly how much worse than usual it would be.

"Are you not worn with this?" Quetesh asked, and they wondered for a moment if she was instead. "Would you not rather die now than days or weeks hence?"

Weeks. If they thought too hard on the implications there, they might truly break under this torment.

Sam held her body locked in place, brittle strength all that was holding her. It was all she could do to keep a safe place for Jolinar.

Quetesh sighed, and without any glare or pause, lifted her hand. The ring-like hara'kash on her hand lit, and then shot back straight through Sam's head. It hurt more than Sam had been prepared for, but then Jolinar screamed in her mind and she forgot herself. The hand device had seemed to bore through their skull, sending waves of the painful energy all through their body. The hara'kash needed no time. It was like a spike, aimed straight for Jolinar herself, and not taking anything in its path into account. Sam felt like her head had been impaled on a long needle.

Since Jolinar could barely affect it, Sam knew that the fast patter of her heart was hers alone. Jolinar was writhing, screaming, overwhelming her head with the intense pain—and Sam's heart was breaking for her. She couldn't say a word, knowing Quetesh could not have planned this, but would have if she knew.

The beam stopped, and Jolinar's inner scream halted abruptly with it.

_~I'm here,~ _Sam said, vainly reaching out with her mind, hoping it might be some comfort.

Jolinar shivered, emotionless.

_~Don't break on me,~ _Sam warned, choking up. _~Not after all this, you can't leave me. Jolinar, you can—~_ She didn't know what. That was worse, she didn't know what Jolinar could do.

"So simple," came Quetesh's words through to Sam's head.

Again she was impaled, again Jolinar had nowhere to go, again she screamed, and Sam felt like she could barely hold back tears.

But then it stopped. As Jolinar withered with the freedom from pain, Sam breathed out and almost opened her eyes. Through the crusted lashes and fever-bleariness she saw Quetesh's feet. Sam didn't look up.

"Too soon," she heard Quetesh mutter. And then the feet vanished as Quetesh turned to leave. Jolinar might have lost even more strength in her relief, but Sam didn't stop to question Quetesh's actions.

_~Jolinar?~ _she asked, desperate. Now her tender eyes were starting to sting with tears, now she could barely keep the lump down in her throat._ ~You're alive, right?~_

Jolinar couldn't answer, but Sam felt her consciousness, small and empty. And Sam just melted around it, wrapping it, bringing it to her as a part of herself. She didn't know what Quetesh had done or what it meant, only that it had left strength that Sam needed to share. That Jolinar needed to receive.

The symbiote hadn't closed herself off, at least. She let Sam in, even though she gave no response. The minutes passed, and Sam's heart still thumped rapidly in her chest with all the worry. Her head was throbbing to the same beat, though she had almost pushed aside the rest of her pain. It was bodily, it was recoverable. Sam feared for Jolinar's mind.

_*I will not die,*_ Jolinar finally said.

A wash of relief swept over Sam for a second.

_~You know what, this is pointless,~_ Sam said, her mind racing frustratedly.

Hints of emotion were coming back to Jolinar, worry and fear and a strange comfort. _*What?*_

_~She almost killed you, no?~_ Sam asked.

Jolinar didn't need to speak her answer, so she said something else. _*I would have died, but with my last act I would have spared you. My death—it would only urge the Tok'ra on.*_

_~Stop that,~_ Sam demanded, trying to find stubbornness in her mixture of relief and fear. ~_I don't even know what that kind of survival would be like. That's not—I won't accept it.~_

Jolinar had barely a response, just the slightest bit of herself that reached to find Sam, become harmonized with her again.

_~I'm not going out on those terms,~ _Sam said. _~If we die, we'll do it together, and we'll take our insane chance.~_

_*There is no chance,_* Jolinar protested, as Sam moved her quivering hands. _*You will not be able to move.*_

_~To hell with that,~_ Sam spat. The rage didn't feel good, it felt too strong for all they'd been through. But she wanted it anyway.

She pulled the spike from her tunic again, bringing it to the manacle. Quietly, one ear on the guards that might escort Quetesh back any second, she started breaking through again. Her breathing was almost coming in sobs, each one wracking her body with pain both physical and emotional. They were losing it so fast.

Her hand slipped and the spike missed the manacle and hit the hand, right on a swollen broken joint. That little pain somehow hurt more intensely than anything should, after all they'd been through. Tears sprang to Sam's eyes, and she squeezed them shut, waiting for the end so she could continue. She didn't have the strength to curse.

The minutes passed, and Sam tried to find the magic combination of angles to get through this lock. It wasn't much easier the second time, except that she knew she could do it. Eventually. She didn't know if she had the time.

Jolinar was quiet, still worn. But she could remember, and she did, and Sam needed the help to recall another cell door in another place. A much kinder prison, the SGC. _*Not for me,* _Jolinar added. But Sam had been much more healed when she'd broken out of that, and she'd had much more at her disposal. And she'd had an escape.

But even Jolinar didn't urge her to slow down and think of a plan. Get out or die—that was good enough.

Finally Sam broke through the manacle, and she was paying attention this time. Grimacing, tears threatening again, she took the spike in the thumb and forefinger of her left hand—the only whole part of that hand. Trying to breathe steadily, she remembered the last sequences of turns in the lock, and carefully, got it done.

When the manacle broke free, her hand jerked a little. She was going to retch or pass out or both, and god, how was she going to even move? She lowered her head, trying to breath in deeply, but feeling the pull of the stab wound at every muscle in her abdomen, ripping and tearing.

_*You will not pass out,*_ Jolinar said, like a mantra in her head._ *We will not lose now. Samantha, we are free.*_

A short spasm went through Sam, but she lifted her head. Her hands, one broken, one with a stab wound festering—they weren't bound by chains any more. Her only weapon was a piece of metal barely three inches long, but they were free. _~Jolinar, we can do this.~_

_*We can.*_

All they needed to do was take it step by step, never bothering to think about the miracle of odds they'd need to complete all the steps. Now, it was about standing up.

_*I'm here,*_ Jolinar said. _*You're not alone.*_

_~I know that,~ _Sam said, but her emotions said the gratitude much better. Jolinar was coming back, and there was no way either of them would let anyone try to rip her away again. She wished Jolinar was recovered enough to take control, because she really didn't know what she could do next.

Squeezing her eyes shut, and ignoring the tear that slipped out and stung its way down the gash on the side of her head, she pushed her elbows back against the wall. That didn't hurt, and neither did positioning her feet to stand up. But when she pushed herself to almost standing, it was good that her jaw was clenched, because it felt like she had been stabbed in the gut again. She doubled over in her new standing position, right hand automatically clutching the wound. It was starting to bleed again, and she was dizzy and faint already; she stumbled against the wall, leaning but not sitting.

She didn't want to say "I can't", but her determination slipped for a second. And yet, there was Jolinar, Sam's overexertion putting some strength back into her mind, and it felt good for them both.

The sudden rush of dizziness faded, and Sam opened her eyes. It was a few steps to the door, and there she would have to break through another lock, but this time without the Jaffa hearing or noticing._ ~Shit.~_

Jolinar almost smiled, and Sam remembered dark humor for the first time in a long time.

Her bare feet were weak but painless as she took her first step, eyes on the bars and the wall of the ship beyond. One hand to her stomach, the other still gingerly holding the spike in her two unbroken fingers. Another two steps, and then she felt the dizziness again. There was no way her hands could protect her face if she fell, and then she would hit her head and it would all be over. Gasping, taking the only option, she took one last long step and fell against the bars of the door.

The pain of a dozen burns and cuts flared to life, but it was the sound that doomed her. The dull clang as she hit the door, head reeling but hearing just fine. And the Jaffa heard, and she heard one set of boots approaching.

"Kree!" he shouted, right in Sam and Jolinar's ear.

They heard the other Jaffa come closer, and Sam prepared to use her only option, stab the Jaffa through the bars. It would sign a death penalty for her and Jolinar, but she had no other choice except wait for them to come in and chain her back up. But the Jaffa was right near her looking confused, and she looked down in the split second before he was about to say something and saw his zat. She inhaled sharply, regretting it, but with all the strength she had her arm shot out through the bars.

The Jaffa almost said something, but he'd underestimated Sam and Jolinar's strength and stood too close. Sam snatched his zat, opening it before he could look down, and then she sent two blasts straight into his chest. No hesitation, and then the other Jaffa was down before he could call kree again.

No guards came running as the Jaffa hit the floor. And somehow Sam was feeling stronger, as if her body was readjusting to being upright again. _~Are you healing?~ _she asked.

_*Adrenaline,*_ Jolinar answered, with a weak ironic chuckle. Her despair at being unable to do what had always come naturally faded just enough to appreciate what Sam's body was doing all on its own.

Sam would have laughed and cried at the situation, but she didn't. Adrenaline might give them a fighting chance. Carefully, she bent, dropping the zat to grip a bar for support and ignored the fiery pain from the pressure the bar put on a wound. The Jaffa was close enough for her to take his keys, pulling them to her with two fingers of her left hand, and adrenaline helped her stand up again.

One click, and the cell door was free. Sam slid it carefully, hands and legs starting to shake. No, adrenaline couldn't be all used up yet, it couldn't. The silence in the hall outside was both hope and worry to her, not knowing where she would go next. She barely remembered the ring room's location, but then what? First things first.

She picked up the zat again. Leaning against the wall, doubled over to ease what pain she could, each step she then took felt like the last before her body would give out. She barely kept her eyes open, dizziness rising and falling but never rising enough to drop her. She was not dead yet.

_*Goa'uld ring combinations are often similar,*_ Jolinar offered, feeling her mind coming to life for what might be their last stretch.

_~But do they usually have Stargates on their ships?~_ Sam asked.

No was the answer, but neither had the strength to say it. Sam watched the gold and grey pattern of the walls as she passed it, step by step, and how many was it by now? The corner was only a few steps away, and then there were only two more turns before the ring room was theirs.

_~If only it's empty,~_ Sam offered.

_*If we can zat fast enough.*_

Time almost disappeared as they kept walking and gasping, and they had turned the corner, and then another, and adrenaline still had them high because they had survived. And they were willing with every bit of them to survive just a little longer, just for another step.

The air was fresher out here too, with no stench of blood and infection and filth from their cell. It was just another thing giving them strength, the freedom to breathe symbolizing the freedom to escape, if they could just make it.

Sam couldn't believe it when they turned the last corner and could see the entrance to the ring room ahead. A few more steps, a few more.

But then the silence broke, and they heard steps ahead. Gritting her teeth, Sam tried to move faster, and Jolinar tried to judge how much faster they needed. They couldn't stop, and Sam wasn't sure she had the strength to lift the zat for more than a second, if that.

Too late, Jolinar realized that they wouldn't make it, and Sam took in a deep sobbing breath before she prepared to fire again.

The steps brought a person into view. And there was Martouf and Lantash. She almost couldn't see past the Goa'uld robes, but there they were. The ones they had kept safe from Quetesh's suspicion, the ones who were never supposed to have to decide between the mission and the one they loved.

Sam's sharp relief mingled fully with Jolinar's, and it was overwhelming—she collapsed against the wall she was using as support.

Lantash stopped with a jolt, eyes full of shock. Sam could only imagine—a long gash down her face, arms and neck marked with burns and cuts, hands a mess, and her tunic almost completely matted with blood both from her stab wound and everything else combined. They were wavering on death's door.

"Jolinar," whispered Lantash, still frozen in shock. And neither Sam nor Jolinar had time to think before suddenly he was moving towards them, fear and concern on his face as he suddenly realized what was going on. "Samantha."

"Yes," Sam said aloud, her throat and mouth almost too dry. She closed her eyes for a second, taking advantage of the relief.

She felt his hand hover, almost touching their shoulder, but she knew just how it would look. Any touch might cause pain. "I did not know," she heard him say, a choke in his voice. "Oh beloved, I did not know. I was sent to Dorieth only this day, but did not suspect—no, I cannot talk." His hand found the wound in her side, and she grimaced, but he slipped his arm around her back and the other under her knees, and in one swift move they were cradled in his arms.

Sam breathed out, the sudden change sending another rush to her head, the relief abating the pumping of adrenaline. "You weren't supposed to know," she whispered, eyes still shut. A pang of Jolinar's struggle between regret and relief was strong, even as everything weakened.

"No, do not say that," she heard the protest in a breaking voice, and then felt a light kiss to her forehead.

"The mission," she murmured, as the world started to fade. He was carrying them to the ring room.

"We are being sent to Dorieth, so our absence will not be noticed here, only there. And they will not notice." To hear a familiar voice, even when so broken by shock and sudden grief, somehow made the impulsive and overconfident words sound right. They trusted him.

Sam and Jolinar could feel the adrenaline finally disappearing for good as the rings activated, as Martouf and Lantash carried them to Quetesh's gate room. And they had truly pushed themselves too far.

_*You were right,* _Jolinar said, her mind edging willingly back to exhausted oblivion.

_~We are safe,~ _Sam said. They had moved again, and then there was the fire of some weapons, and now the sound of chevrons lighting. She was so tired, in so much pain, but she knew as she heard the sound of the wormhole activating that she'd spoken the truth.

Safe in arms that they would trust to the end of the universe, Sam and Jolinar lost consciousness as they were carried through the gate.

—

**Author's Notes:** Thank you so much for all your reviews! I'm so glad to see how many people have stuck with this story for so long. I will be on vacation for the next four weeks, so updates will not be on the regular schedule. I have many chapters written ahead, though, so as long as I have access to the internet I will be able to update.


	63. Infirmaries

**Chapter 62 - Infirmaries**

_Mai'tac—Lantash, what happened?_

_I do not know, Larys; they were trying to escape when I found them._

_If they were awake then, it increases their chances._

_Increases?_

_Lantash, you must wait outside, Samantha and Jolinar need urgent care._

_..._

_Rosha is coming, Jolinar, and she will ask once more._

_I cannot give up._

_And I cannot bring you down with me. The Jaffa will be on her heels, and you must leave. You must survive and return to our people._

_All three of us may yet escape, Elista—we are still strong._

_Not enough, Jolinar. Not enough._

_I am Tok'ra. I do not use my host as an escape._

_You are Tok'ra, and so you do what your host wishes, and the rest is for the good of all. I am not asking, Jolinar, I am telling. If you resist more, I will use all your guilt against you—please, Jolinar, do not push me to that. You must leave._

_I—_

_Rosha is coming. Accept her offer, and live._

_Then was all this torment for nothing?_

_It was for the good of the Tok'ra, that you will carry till your dying day. _

_And what of my promise to you, Elista?_

_Fulfilled, Jolinar. Now leave, before I must face my death knowing I condemned you. Do not watch. I do not want your last memory of me to be of guilt. Go!_

_..._

_She is not in a coma, nor even fully unconscious. Our devices are giving us trouble._

_Larys, do not look at us like that..._

_Martouf, Lantash, you must not hold on so tightly. Nothing is certain yet. She is weak and gravely injured, but above all a poison runs through Jolinar. Quetesh has given her something not deadly to symbiotes, but something much worse. It keeps her from healing and what has now seeped into Samantha's veins reacts strongly against our healing device. If we try, it will certainly kill her._

_So then—_

_If they live, it will be on their own power. Jolinar's system is overcoming the poison, if slowly, and Samantha's body is slowly working towards a natural healing. I do not know if we can give them enough strength to finish, but they are not dying yet._

_How long until...something certain is known?_

_Long enough that you will need rest, and more than you get by their bedside. Martouf, rest. You are not the only one concerned. At least Selmak is wise enough to know when it does more harm to wallow in worry._

_..._

_Is the pain temporary?_

_Oh, Rosha—oh, no._

_Then you must live as if it doesn't touch us, or we may as well not live._

_That is impossible._

_Then pretend it is not. Let's just pretend that nothing is impossible, Jolinar._

_And when it is, Rosha?_

_We'll know it then, and it won't matter what we know. But for now, I want us to succeed. We will succeed. _

_Until I lose you too._

_I'm not going any time soon, Jolinar. And if that's all you're going to think for that time, then it's going to be a downer the whole way. We can do anything, Jolinar. Just push away the pain, and live. Live._

...

Past and present blurred in a cloud, the accompaniment to Sam and Jolinar's fight with death. They couldn't consciously know what it was, even as their minds sought the memories that only seemed random. All they could do was fight, figuratively back to back, all weapons at hand, warring the specter of death that grabbed at them with no break.

ooooooo

"It's been a week and a half," said Thomas, circles under his eyes. He was sitting farthest from the gate.

Matthews ignored him, jaw set as he dialed the Alpha Site again. "Two weeks, Thomas. That's the deadline."

The campsite on P3X-808 lay in disarray. At first they'd tried to keep it neat, with little else to do. But even Daniel started to go mad with the busywork, and now it was all the waiting game. Wait long enough that the leaders on the Alpha Site would give them what they needed—something to do.

Lewis flicked rocks on the ground with his toe. SG-6 was all required to be by the gate at every update, just in case there was some urgent mission. Sha're and Shifu still slept in her and Daniel's tent, as Sha're had tried to do for the past few days. Shifu did not change his behavior just because Earth might be destroyed, but with nothing else on the schedule, Sha're could steal her hours of sleep at many more times.

Daniel paced, knowing that Dr. Donald was watching him and annoyed, but needing something to do. He couldn't sit like the rest of them.

Finally the wormhole engaged, and Matthews sent his GDO signal in for verification.

The answer was loud enough for them all to hear on the radio. _"Oh thank god you've contacted this early. Good news, SG-6. We're going home."_

Everyone's head jerked up, and Daniel almost tripped as his step caught. He stared at the gate, watched as Matthews opened his mouth to speak, closed it, cleared his throat, and tried again. "Say again, Alpha Site?"

"We just had contact with Earth."

"Yes!" Lewis jumped to his feet, punching the air.

Daniel felt his breath catch in his chest, the tension leaving his limbs.

"Really?" Matthews asked, after he had to clear his throat again.

"Yes sir. If you'll just come through, it's kind of a long story, or so we hear."

"Absolutely," said Matthews. He put the radio down, turning to the group. "Gather your basic things; we can leave the major clean-up for later." A wide grin framed his broad face. "We're going home, guys."

Daniel found his brain, and made his way the few steps back to the camp swiftly. The tent door opened before he got there, and Sha're poked her head out, hair all askew.

"What is it?" she asked.

Daniel swept her in his arms. "Earth isn't destroyed," he whispered in her hair.

"Oh Daniel," she breathed out, squeezing him close.

"We're going to the Alpha Site to hear the news, right now," said Daniel. "Can you come?"

"I will just pick up Shifu," Sha're said, smiling brightly for the first time in at least a week.

Daniel let her go, following her in the tent to grab the bag that had Shifu's things in it. He turned around, and there was Sha're with Shifu whining tiredly in the blanket in her arms. He put his arm around her shoulder, and they walked quickly to the gate. The rest of SG-6 was through, but Matthews had waited for them.

"Today was our lucky day," he said, grinning.

And with that, they walked through together.

ooooooo

Jolinar woke first, if it could be called waking. Her mind found the sensations of reality instead of the surreality of the dreamworld. Not a memory, not a dream. She thought she might regret it as soon as she felt pain, but she didn't.

She felt her body well-supported by pillows, the soft feel of bandages over the wounds she could remember. She breathed in, felt the pull on the stab wound, and felt the tightness of the healing wound on her face. But it was a low throb, barely there. The burn and buzz of the torture stick and the poison were almost gone, and she felt the splints on her fingers, resting just to the side of her stomach. Her mouth wasn't dry, and she didn't feel starving somehow.

Her eyes didn't want to open, and she tried to look for Samantha. She was still asleep, and for all her protesting, Jolinar knew that Sam had taken the harder beating. Jolinar knew what she was expecting, and if it was worse it was only because she couldn't heal anything. Even the hara'kash, though designed to hurt her alone, had been nothing she wasn't able to foretell. But Samantha had not only been unscathed by this in the past, she had borne a heavier burden as Jolinar lay almost unconnected. She'd fought with every last strand, and Jolinar didn't know how to appreciate such effort.

She could feel her host still deep in exhausted slumber, and Jolinar felt the pull herself. This moment of euphoric lessening of pain was an illusion, and Jolinar could feel the deep damages still remaining. She hadn't fought back the poison enough to heal.

This time she welcomed the darkness to cover her and Samantha, let them heal in the oblivion. Just before she lost reality again, without opening her eyes, she heard and felt someone by her side. Was it her mate, his worry overcoming his duty? It was nothing she hadn't done in the recent past, but part of her did not want to be so selfish as to accept it here. But perhaps it was her host's father, and Selmak, and that was almost as comforting a thought.

Sleep took her again, and she felt secure in it.

ooooooo

Daniel breathed in the scent of the gateroom as he stepped through to the SGC, more than two weeks since he'd last been there. Mckay stood waiting for him.

"Good to see, Rodney," said Daniel, putting a hand to the man's shoulder as he descended the ramp, Sha're on his other side.

"Yeah, well, I have a hard time understanding what it's been for you," Mckay said, not flinching under the touch. "Two weeks, really?"

"Believe me, I counted every day," said Daniel. "Jack and Dixon?"

"Teal'c's keeping watch," said Mckay, beckoning towards the hall. "They should be up soon, though."

"I'm still confused," Daniel admitted as they walked. "All I heard was that everything was fine, damaged but fine. And because of a black hole here?"

"No, no, no," Mckay corrected. "The black hole was _not_ here. That's a, impossible, and b, inescapable."

Daniel smiled. "Yes, I know that. That's why it was confusing."

"Ah, good," said Mckay. "I've had to correct so many idiotic assumptions...no, the black hole was only putting some of its effects through the gate. Enough to pull us all in, but not enough to destroy the gate. Neither is a shape charge, also."

"How did you figure to use that?" Daniel asked. "Do I even know what a shape charge is?"

"Probably not," said Mckay lightly. "But you don't need to. It was my idea—well, Jean helped a bit, but it wasn't hard to see that the military was wrong. It was just finding out what was right. Do you know they thought the self-destruct would help?"

"I don't think I was told that," said Daniel, thinking. "So our way home really was on the line—we guessed something other than a black hole, but still."

 They entered the recovery area of the infirmary and Daniel saw Jack and Dixon. He hadn't been too concerned, after he'd been urged to relax so many times, but it was good to have visual proof that things weren't too bad.

"So Jack and Dixon stayed to blow it up?" Daniel asked, more quietly as they joined Teal'c by their comrades' sides.

"Oh no," said Mckay. "The general wouldn't let Dixon go, since he's got a family. It was Jack and some military guy he knew who did die. Dixon was knocked out by a flying bit of metal drawn to the gate, as we made our way out of the mountain."

Daniel couldn't help a smile at that.

Sha're leaned over to him. "Dan'yel, I wish to get Shifu to sleep."

"Go ahead, I'll wait here," Daniel answered, nodding. "If they wake up, I'll call you back."

"Thank you for saving our lives, Doctor," said Sha're on her way out, almost a playful look on her grateful smile.

Mckay took it straight, pausing with his mouth half open. "Uh, sure. It was my planet at stake, you know."

"Doesn't mean we're not all grateful to you and Jean," said Daniel honestly. "We really thought Earth might be lost."

"Well, it could be if we ever try to contact that planet again," said Mckay. "We calculated that it will be years before the time dilation makes it so that the planet is actually destroyed."

"So that gate address is off limits," said Daniel.

Mckay gave him a look. "Yeah."

"Do you know what the Pentagon thinks of the whole thing?" Daniel asked, realizing the greater issues. Earth _had_ almost been destroyed. That wasn't really acceptable in the new status quo.

Mckay shrugged. "Can't really know."

"Captain Carlsworth seemed most appreciative," commented Teal'c, his first words since their arrival.

 Daniel glanced to him. "Who?"

"Oh him," Mckay said, smirking. "Some young military aide, said that the time dilation meant that the base wasn't using resources for those two weeks, and that budget cut should make up for the near-Earth-destruction thing."

Daniel smiled again.

"Daniel?" Jack's voice came, slightly cracked but questioning all the same.

Daniel and Mckay turned to the bed.

"Hey Jack," said Daniel. He smiled at the Colonel's slightly incredulous face. "Did I miss anything?"

The facetiousness brought Jack back to reality. "I made it?"

"Yes, yes, you did," said Mckay. "Teal'c here pulled you out in time."

Jack let the words sink in for a second. "Thanks," he said, looking to Teal'c.

"You are welcome," said Teal'c simply.

"It worked, by the way," said Mckay. "The energy jumped gates after the shape charge went off, and we shut off the gate. Oh, and it's been two weeks for everyone else."

Daniel was slightly amused to see that hit Jack more than the rest. Jack let his head plop back on the pillow. "Two weeks. I think I'll sleep in, okay?"

Mckay shared a look with Daniel, who nodded. "Well," the scientist said, "you're going to have to do something while we install the new trinium-enhanced iris."

Daniel blinked. "Wait, new iris?"

"Oh, did you miss that?" Mckay asked.

"The black hole sucked in our iris, man," said Dixon from the other bed.

"Ah, you're awake too," said Mckay. "Good, good. But it didn't literally suck—that's not really the way to describe the pull of gravity."

"Listen, I just woke up," said Dixon, a bandage around his head giving him the war hero look. "Let me go back to sleep before you go off on science, okay? Science almost killed me."

Mckay rolled his eyes, but shut his mouth.

"I should check on Sha're, then," said Daniel. The information, though relieving, was quite a shock to him. He wondered if Sha're would need Mckay to explain more about the black hole—then again, she might have learned that already. And they needed a new iris. That was something else.

"Crisis over, back to being shortchanged," said Mckay with a sigh, following Daniel out of the infirmary. Teal'c stayed behind, something Daniel found momentarily fascinating. "Then again, we do have a mission in a week and a half."

Daniel shrugged. Earth was safe—what else mattered in the end?

ooooooo

Sam started to wake, not with the feeling of restfulness, but with a heavy weariness in her very core. And yet, it was better than before—that was wrong, but somehow comforting.

She found Jolinar immediately, sleeping less soundly and waking immediately. Sam felt instantly how much more whole she was, and the renewed connection made even the weariness acceptable.

_~Are we okay?~_ she asked.

_*We are moving that way,_* Jolinar said, the thin quality of her voice on Quetesh's ship gone, and the fullness back, even if the vitality was still just out of reach. *_Quetesh did not fully damage me; I am nearly returned to normal function, if not health.*_

A bit of the weariness seemed to dissipate the longer Sam was awake. She sighed inwardly, relieved that it was not just a hope and a dream. _~Jolinar?~_

_*Hmm?*_

_~I'm sorry for all this.~ _Sam didn't know why it had come to her now, before she was even fully awake. But somehow she remembered that they had only found Quetesh on Sam's desire, for Sha're's sake, and that was all because of Sam too.

There was a pause, but it was one of incredulity. _*I would not have had it any other way, not were worlds offered.*_

Sam took a deep breath, a certain freeness in her lungs at that. Some pain was gone, but also the tension. _~I missed you there for a while,~ _she admitted.

_*Likewise,*_ Jolinar said simply.

A lump rose in Sam's throat, but she wasn't strong enough to focus on this yet. Whatever this was, whatever they had just escaped together. Whatever wasn't resolved simply by running away. Sam was fully awake, and now her mind drifted to things physical.

There was a soft light beyond her closed eyelids, but she didn't want to open them yet. She went through her body mentally, feeling each part and limb, and gingerly assessing the resting pain. Most of the stinging and burning from the superficial cuts was gone, now that they were covered and felt to be healed. Her hand was stabilized so that no involuntary twitch would give her pain.

And then she noticed her face. She breathed through her nose, but even the little muscle movements felt tight, pulling against the cut. ~That will scar,~ she thought, envisioning the stitches-like bandage that would be needed to hold it together. Jolinar didn't understand immediately, and it only took Sam a second to realize why and be confused on her own. Wait, scarring? She could just barely recall her first arrival here, and the healing device that had dealt with almost everything in minutes.

_*Something must be wrong,_* thought Jolinar with a small surge of worry. She couldn't feel what it might be.

Something was teasing at Sam's memory, something that told her she should probably know the answer. Had she heard it, or guessed it? Why couldn't she remember now?

She noticed her brow wrinkling by the tightness increasing on her face, and she immediately smoothed it out. That still hurt. She and Jolinar heard a rustle by their side, and then a gentle brushing touch on her arm that thankfully didn't hurt.

Her eyelids flickered, and the light wasn't too much, so she barely squinted as she opened them. Above her, the familiar crystal of Tok'ra ceilings. Beneath her, the soft supporting comfort of their infirmary beds. And as her peripheral vision cleared, there was a face she'd always be happy to see.

"Samantha?" Martouf asked hesitantly, as if even a noise might damage her.

Her eyes almost closed as she had to hold back and not smile. Her lips barely moved, but she could speak. "Martouf."

His touch strayed from her arm to her bandaged hand as he sat by her right side. She couldn't feel it there, but the knowledge was enough.

"Jolinar and I—we are alive," she said, voice small as she was careful to shape the words. Her head almost started to throb at the sudden sound, but not quite.

"After much worrying on our parts, I think we finally believe that," Martouf said, the hint of a weary smile on his face.

Sam needed a deeper breath after her words, and before she could speak again. "Why are we not healed?" she asked, frustratingly unable to speak at barely more than a whisper.

Jolinar was at the back of her mind, slowly examining the underpinnings of this health, looking for the answer in all the clues. But she hadn't found one, and waited with Sam for an answer.

"The poison you were given," said Martouf, brow creasing as his hand gently covered hers. "When we tried to use the healing device, the reaction was disastrous. We could have lost you both from that alone, had we continued. All we could do was provide the nutrients and hope that your strength, Samantha, would carry you until the poison was defeated by Jolinar."

That sounded vaguely familiar, but more, it made sense. Jolinar had not felt this weary since she recovered from the Blood of Sokar, and even though Sam had more experience with a continual weakness, somehow she had grown to expect something else in these past four months. No healing device, and Jolinar said that she could tell her own healing powers were not restored to her yet, which explained the rest.

But then—Sam's mouth turned in the slightest bit of a frown, all she could manage without courting pain. They were somewhat healed, she could feel it. If that was all her own body's doing... "How long have we slept?"

"Four days," said Lantash, and they had not noticed the change.

Their minds reeled—had it been that bad?

Lantash noticed the surprise in her face. "Samantha, you and Jolinar were traversing a very thin line between life and death," he said, looking her in the eye. There was the deep pain of long worry in there. "It is testament to your strength that you have even awakened this much."

Jolinar could comprehend it now, and Sam was starting to. But almost two weeks. It had been almost two weeks since Quetesh had come to Dorieth. And at that word, she felt an involuntary tension, almost a shudder running through her. No, she couldn't even think it yet. She closed her eyes for a second, and let Jolinar come forward. She seemed to understand this more.

Jolinar didn't think it, but in a way Sam understood just from the emotions that she remembered what she'd told Sam in that prison cell. About the time she'd wanted to keep hidden. The long recovery, that had never been fully completed, only abandoned and brushed over for the sake of living a semi-normal life. Jolinar knew that there was much similar here, even if she'd only realized it now.

"My love," she murmured. Lantash smiled, and bent to brush a light kiss to her forehead. "What now?" she asked.

"Now I let Selmak and Samantha's father free from their worry," Lantash said. "That is all the now you need."

And Jolinar knew that. It had been an automatic question, borne of duty, but she couldn't feel it. She wasn't strong enough yet.

_~My father,~_ thought Sam, suddenly remembering. All those days, and she'd never once considered what would happen to him if she hadn't made it. For all that she'd expected it, she never truly comprehended what it meant.

_*And now, it is not so easy to accept as an idea,*_ Jolinar said quietly.

They were not so ready to give up life. Assuming they found it again—for now they needed to survive, fully.

Jolinar's eyelids started to droop. "Thank you," she murmured, not knowing till know how much she'd wanted for them to be saved.

"For failing until the last moment?" Jolinar heard Lantash's words, even if her eyes were almost closed so that she did not see his face. "I cannot accept it."

The lump settled firmly in Jolinar's throat, and it was far too much emotion to handle now. But she felt loved and safe, and for the moment she had no duty to consider. As she and Sam survived, they could accept this love with no distractions.

Jolinar swallowed, as the love she felt was the last impression on her mind as she fell into healing sleep again. She barely even noticed that Sam's love was with hers, and Sam's confusing thoughts on that fact completely escaped her.


	64. Readjustments

**Chapter 63 - Readjustments**

Jolinar crowded Sam's mind, the memories and feelings closer than Sam's own, if that was even possible. What they'd shared called back to what they had not, and Sam heard stories of war torture veterans as Jolinar confused them with what she'd experienced, or had she done that on prisoners so long ago?

These non-dreams rose to a point, just as they woke. For a moment they hadn't regained sense of their own body, only that a hand rested on their shoulder. Flashes of Quetesh's patience filled their mind, and Sam flinched from the touch with a sharp intake of breath. The tensing of her muscles hurt.

"Sam?"

It was not Quetesh's voice, not even a Goa'uld voice. Sam's eyes had automatically snapped open, but now she saw.

"Dad," she exhaled raggedly, closing her eyes again. His hand still lay on her shoulder, but she remembered where she was, and it didn't frighten her.

Jolinar shook herself free, settling back in their consciousness to see if she could yet heal.

"Nightmares?" Jacob asked.

Sam opened her eyes again, swallowing the metallic taste of panic in the back of her throat. "Yes," she said.

He rubbed her shoulder gently. "Oh kid, I'm sorry," he said, voice raw with understanding.

Sam couldn't remember him referencing his military past like that, and for a moment it was a welcome distraction. Maybe it was Selmak, though, and Jolinar wondered if it could be both. She was recovered enough to start healing—just a fraction of what she could do before, but for now it was something she could do. And the slow knitting of skin and muscle back together, a tiny tingle of sensation behind everything else, felt familiar and soothing to Sam.

"I'm out of the worst, aren't I?" Sam asked, her voice still shaky as it took more strength than it should.

"That you are," Jacob said, then cleared his throat of the apparent catch in it. "Not that there was any doubt," he added.

Sam smiled, and would have rolled her eyes at the plain facade of confidence. The new worry lines by his eyes, and the protective touch of his hand, spoke the truth.

Jolinar focused on the healing, keeping her mind from thinking about all that had happened. All that came quickly to Sam's mind. "The mission failed," she said, her heart sinking. All that trouble and worry and apprehension for nothing.

Looking up, she saw Jacob shake his head lightly. "No," he said. He nodded once towards her, "You did your part, and the mission goes on. Quetesh did not suspect it."

Sam felt her heart start to beat at that name, and her desire barely formed before Jolinar was doing what she did best, smoothing it down, calming her physical reactions. "Martouf and Lantash?" she asked, a bit of a croak as her throat was dry.

"Hold on," Jacob said. He reached over to the bedside table, taking a cup in one hand and slipping his hand from her shoulder to her back.

She needed all the support as he lifted her just enough to sip the drink. It wasn't water, but something cool and rich-flavored. Jolinar guessed that it was a simple form of food, all their weakened body could handle, not even taking into account the forced fast that had done nothing good for their digestive system. The drink went down smoothly, and cleared her throat. Sam looked back to Jacob for the answer to her question.

"They are not here at the moment," Selmak said, coming forward. "As soon as you woke, Larys managed to assure them that there would be no retreat from what progress you made. They went to Dorieth as their mission demanded, organizing what the planet had become since Coron's departure. Quetesh did not see fit to leave another Jaffa in command, but Lantash's role is only to prepare it for another lieutenant. He is highly prized in Quetesh's court."

That was a relief, especially to Jolinar, as Selmak let them lie back against the pillow again. Their mistake had not harmed the ultimate goal, nor another's cover. Sam nodded gently, understanding.

"I could have guessed that this mission would be difficult on them, with little recent experience," Selmak continued. "But the personal aspects were not fully taken into account. Still, Lantash is surprisingly stalwart when necessary. He has dealt well with this trial."

"I'm only momentarily surprised," Sam said in a low tone, expressing Jolinar's thought as well as her own.

"I should not be saying this," Selmak said, his voice quieter as he leaned in closer. "But Jacob and I do not think this a disaster. We feared for your safety as you pushed further; as despicable as these events have been, we could foresee the loss of your life. Anything short of that is relief to us."

Jolinar's attention was caught for a moment by that, and she couldn't not agree. For all that it seemed like she and Sam felt like they could cheat death, somewhere deep down Jolinar always assumed that she'd die. And it came as a surprise to Sam.

_*I shouldn't,*_ Jolinar said. _*I do not try to.*_

Sam said nothing, just tipped her head to the side, resting it on Selmak's hand as it still lay on her shoulder. _~And now?~_

_*I want to live.*_

Sam closed her eyes as Jolinar returned to healing, putting forth all the limited strength she had.

ooooooo

Jolinar supposed that the reason everyone went to such care for her and Sam was precisely because she did not openly object. Were she well, she knew she would fester beneath it. But she had neither the strength, nor in this case the desire. Her people had never been demonstrative or smothering, as had frustrated Sam—in this case, however, the Tok'ra were out of their element and it was a worrisome development. Even so, only Larys was noticeably careful, apart from family.

Jolinar's healing abilities were now more clearly returning. Nothing troubled her in regards to internal injuries now, and most of the small wounds were down to scars. Perhaps one day she would get to those as well, if her strength ever did return that far. She did not hide from Sam that some things could be permanent. And she didn't mean memories.

Larys had them sitting up in bed the second day. Martouf and Lantash had returned for a short check-up, and in the midst of the clouds still in her and Sam's mind, she wanted to soothe their mind. And so she'd cooperated, eating solid food and answering Larys' questions and even taking a couple steps to show that she could. Some of the worry faded from Martouf's face, and she knew they would go back to their mission better for it.

As the lights dimmed in the approximation of night on the Tok'ra base, though, Jolinar curled up in the hospital bed, alone with Sam in the dusk, and had to control her breathing to keep it steady and even. Quetesh's cell had not had lights, and the glow had glinted off many edges just the same. It took many hours to convince their unconscious mind to accept that.

By the third day, most of the pain itself was gone. Jolinar had half her strength back, and Larys stopped his concern. Dorin seemed interested still, but even Sam had no words for her. They didn't talk about the phantom pain, the assumption that every move would hurt, the ginger way they touched their own skin. And the times they would wake up from a dream, and the reality of the dream still held and they felt the torture as if it was fresh.

Sam learned to swallow her cries to avoid answering the questions at night. If her father or Selmak guessed that there were more nightmares, neither said anything. Jolinar was too familiar to want any talk on it. _*They will fade when we are ready,* _she told Sam.

It sounded easy, wise, resigned. Instead, Jolinar knew for once why Sam used words to frame the reality she wanted, which was not always what reality they existed in.

Sam felt the helplessness of the fourth night, and she didn't want to stop her heart from beating. Jolinar had started on her broken hand and the healing wound on her face. At first curled on her side in fetal position, eyes shut as she looked for sleep, she felt Jolinar's healing routine. Felt how weak it still was. Felt how it gave her mind something to concentrate on, something wearyingly dull that eventually would lull her to sleep.

Sam needed that. She struggled to her feet and started to pace the small room, eyes on the floor in front of each step. Her broken hand she still cradled to her chest, and it was difficult to stand straight when she remembered feeling stabbed in the gut. The neural damage, minor but obtrusive, gave the occasional jerk to her movements. Nothing went smoothly yet, even if the pain was gone.

Step by step, Sam walked, her bare feet touching the cool stone of the floor. No one saw and no one heard, just Jolinar. She moved, and Jolinar healed, and they could focus on this and appreciate what power they had. The longer she walked, the less steady her steps became. Her breathing itself started to jerk up a little.

She sat back down on the bed, feeling a bit of a chill. They weren't recovered yet. No one needed to tell her that. She slid back under the blankets, and focused on Jolinar's healing. She couldn't experience it the same way, but in that moment she was too tired to do anything but accept it as a shared experience.

She fell asleep with the feeling of things fitting back together.

ooooooo

Daniel walked into his lab and saw Sha're sitting on the low stool she'd appropriated from before. Her legs crossed, a large book resting between them, her finger marking her place as she read across the pages.

"_Nefer,_" Daniel said, using an Abydonian word because "love" or god-forbid "honey" just made him feel silly. He needed to mean what he said.

"Mm, yes?" Sha're didn't look up from her book.

"Our child?" Daniel asked, sitting at his desk and pulling the computer from its sleep.

"With Teal'c," Sha're answered, still reading.

Daniel blinked. "Oh?"

"He said there has been little for him to do, with so few missions," Sha're said, this time looking up to him. "As it is true for me also, we have come to an arrangement."

"Ah," said Daniel. He had noticed how much Sha're had been teaching herself lately, and the way she occasionally seemed to encourage Teal'c likewise. But it had not occurred to him to think of making the leap to assuming a cooperative relationship. "So where are they?" he asked curiously, before pulling up his research.

"In Colorado Springs with Major Dixon," Sha're said, looking back to her book.

"What?" Daniel asked, this time thoroughly surprised.

"Teal'c wished to learn how to 'shop'," Sha're said with a shrug. "And Major Dixon needed to run an errand for his wife, so Teal'c said he would purchase more of those cotton diapers for Shifu."

Daniel smiled as he glanced down. Poor Dave—that would probably be quite an experience. A good one, though, he hoped.

Sha're looked up at Daniel's clock, something she had only learned how to do with some awkwardness. "Such flight of time!" she exclaimed, standing up.

"You have somewhere to be?" Daniel asked as she put the book on stool.

"Jean has been working with me," Sha're said, smiling as she walked to the door. "Your government has approved that she work more with genetics, and also to find a way to let others operate Goa'uld technology without becoming hosts."

"Wow, that's ambitious," said Daniel. Not surprising, though, given the advantage that such research would have for the military alone. "Have...fun, I suppose?"

"I will, Dan'yel," said Sha're, and she left with a smile.

ooooooo

Sam and Jolinar returned to their own chamber finally. Jolinar's healing powers were as close to normal as it seemed likely they would go. With a bit of delay and a slight lessening in strength still remaining, everyone among the Tok'ra recognized the potency of Quetesh's inhibitor.

Jolinar hardly cared at this point and wanted to get away. Healed as they were, she needed them to be back to their old physical condition, and the first step was disassociation from the infirmary. This room was a comforting place, sparse and calm.

Martouf and Lantash came back for another short visit. The two pairs sat together on the bed in Sam and Jolinar's chamber, facing each other but not quite looking up. Martouf held Jolinar's hand, silent for a few moments.

"I have heard that you are succeeding," she said quietly.

Martouf nodded. "I have heard likewise."

"We will always succeed," said Jolinar, referring to herself and Sam.

Martouf smiled, almost pained. "Then I do not know why we worry," he said.

Jolinar barely smiled in answer. She squeezed Martouf's hand and leaned in, resting her head on his shoulder. He sighed, not quite holding her, but letting one hand rest securely on her back. Lantash did not speak during this encounter, and Sam did not either. There was no need, when words were not even being honest. None of them liked the worry.

Some time later, Martouf kissed Jolinar's hair, and then rose. Duty called him again. Jolinar sat for a while after he left, thinking of nothing. Sam thought of family and recovery, and how one sometimes helped and sometimes hindered the other. In essence, she thought of nothing too.

Being reminded of what still moved instead of stagnating, though, sparked that purpose in Jolinar that she had been searching for. Sam felt it a moment later, as Jolinar breathed in deeply, filling her lungs with good air. Healing had come, now there was only restoration.

Standing, and feeling the life in their veins, Jolinar left her chamber. She did not go to the infirmary, nor to Jacob and Selmak. Down past many tunnels, far from the normal traffic of the Tok'ra community, Jolinar sought the physical training facility. It was not often used, given the assignments and natural powers of a symbiote. But Sam and Jolinar's nerves had forgotten for a while how to function, and their muscles had been equally confused. Now it was time to bring them back into order.

Sam expected a punching bag, but was almost surprised to see it.

_*Do you wish the first go?*_ Jolinar asked, her heart starting to pump faster as she began to stretch.

Sam felt a moment of passivity, but the spark of passion burned brighter in her. _~Yes,~_ she said.

After a slight burn in the stretch, and one random spasm, Sam felt ready to beat it all out. Her technique flowed steadily, even as her first strikes were weak, for aim and judging distance only. She settled into an easy stance, neither solid nor light. Leading with her right, she put a few light strikes on the punching bag.

Simple, emotionless, routine. And yet, the warmth of the movement moved her thoughts to something more active. She thought about each movement, feeling the amount of power needed, judging the speed of the bag that now swung a little after each hit.

Then she tossed her first strike with her left hand, and a rush of exhilaration ran through her when there was no pain or pressure. Her bones were solid again, and Sam threw another two quick strikes. A tight smile crossed her face.

She moved closer, hugging to the vicinity of the bag, moving as it swung. The longer she moved, the smoother it got. And she felt Jolinar's strength enhancing hers, sending the punching bag on longer and longer arcs.

It was a good enough start, and she let Jolinar take it further. Jolinar was sharper in her attack, less focused on form and more on efficiency. She added power to each strike, and tried sweeping and dodging the punching bag instead of stepping aside. Unlike Sam, though, she did not think about the acts themselves.

_*A sweep to the neck is a hit an ashrak will never take,*_ she said, the information more running through her head than words she wanted to say to Sam. But Sam understood, saying things made a difference._ *They do not want themself as symbiote harmed, and they do not have other options like the Goa'uld. But Jaffa helmets shield everything of the neck but hook attacks.*_

Jolinar squatted down, striking with her elbow instead of her fist to the middle of the punching bag. _*Jaffa cannot bend well in their armor, though, and their helmets are top-heavy; shots to their center will knock them off balance.* _She spun quickly, a back strike with her elbow slamming into the upper portion of the punching bag. _*Followed with a strike to the chest, and they will fall over. They will try to move quickly to match the spin, but their armor will not allow it, and their stance will be even more off.*_

Jolinar relived vague memories of specific fights with each piece of knowledge, and Sam saw a brutal history of self defense. Jolinar grimaced, but the deep-running satisfaction affected Sam even more. They were capable.

Another fight coming to Jolinar's mind spawned another piece of information, another form of attack. She stepped back, rotating, and started striking out with kicks. Snap, roundhouse, hook. Even after stretching, her body wasn't as flexible as it could be. Jolinar pushed it to its limits, the burn a good burn as she aimed for the 'head' of the punching bag.

_~And this is?~_

_*If a Jaffa knows how to use his staff for more than aiming straight. You may kick the weapon aside, or kick past it.*_

It was not so simple to visualize, and Jolinar recalled one such instance, painting the picture in her mind so that the punching bag almost looked like a Jaffa with a staff. Sam saw the figure too, and even though Jolinar could know every upcoming move, this was about form and not sparring.

Jolinar hissed out as a particularly strong kick sent the punching bag flying, leaving a red mark on her own bare foot. The bag came back, and Jolinar used her elbow to strike it to the side. In her mind, the Jaffa went flying to the ground. Jolinar stepped closer, punching close and sharp.

Sam felt a surge of anger, and she realized that the Jaffa was not faceless. As he stood there stunned, enough so that Jolinar could have escaped, she pressed in closer. Breathing deeply, she sent another shot from close quarters, and then the Jaffa blurred and became Quetesh. Her breath catching harshly, Jolinar closed her eyes and sent a volley of quick strikes, even stepping in for the kidney shot. Hard and fast, she stopped after a few seconds, finally out of breath. Her knuckles were red and sore, but as Jolinar opened her eyes, the punching bag was neutral again.

It didn't feel as good as Jolinar had hoped. She hadn't planned to act out her anger and frustration, but the catharsis was supposed to help. Sam thought it had, in the moment. Now, they could both feel how unfinished it still was. And would be, if this was all they had. If this was their only recourse, pathetic as it truly was.

_*There is no substitute for reality in any training,*_ Jolinar said. She let the punching bag swing slower and slower, and she turned to walk away. The jerkiness of her movements had faded, but now she was starting to feel tired and hungry.

Sam had nothing to say as they left. The power of being active had been close to what they needed.

ooooooo

After everything, the choice seemed natural. Inaction would frustrate them, and there was only one mission that was sure to provide something to help it.

"We request to participate in the mission to defeat Quetesh," Jolinar said. She approached Garshaw in a quiet corridor, the first among the rest of the Tok'ra that either she or Sam had had any interaction with since their original mission briefings.

"The Tok'ra rarely turn down offers of aid," Garshaw said, "but Jolinar, this is not what is desired."

Sam was surprised to see how well Jolinar could articulate what they both felt. "We are both healed, and we know exactly what needs to be done. We need it, not only the Tok'ra."

"For revenge," Garshaw clarified, frowning.

Jolinar paused, taking a breath instead of biting her tongue. "That is not even possible. We could not approach Quetesh, now that she knows our face. But that is not the only position. Before, we had no operative among the people, ready to begin to stir rebellion. Let Samantha and I be that."

"For what purpose?" Garshaw asked. Her arms rested lightly crossed over her chest. "For the good of the Tok'ra and the people in this galaxy, or for the humiliation of Quetesh?"

Jolinar eyed her closely. "Are you suggesting that what happened will influence us unduly?" Her heart skipped a beat, because it was true, even though neither she nor Sam cared.

"It is not the habit of the Tok'ra to allow compromised operatives to endanger themselves, even when there is not a mission at stake," said Garshaw, pointed but not harsh. "You suffered as much as most, and you cannot be fully recovered yet by any standard."

"It is a simple position," said Jolinar, pleading her case without letting her tone sound like begging. "We go in disguise, we mingle. There are no choices that we might be tempted to make, and no chance that Quetesh might come."

Garshaw waited a moment before answering. "Not now," she said. "I will speak to the Council, and especially Selmak, in a few days. You are not allowed to be rash, Jolinar, especially when it might damage you more."

Sam knew what she meant; so did Jolinar. They could see the logic, even if they did not want to accept it. Maybe it would be problematic to be back in the field, but maybe they needed to work things out of their system instead of resting them away.

Jolinar nodded, and turned to leave.

_~Why especially Selmak?_~ Sam asked. She knew the Tok'ra did not condone entangling emotional attachments, which was only as expected for their general profession.

_*Selmak has more experience than us in...recovery,* _Jolinar said. She knew little more, other than the vague references she'd added up over the decades of small conversations.

Sam wanted to be intrigued, but she felt on edge more than that. She just needed to do something. Jolinar always did, but right now Sam wanted more than her to escape. Get this over with, as fast as possible. She never liked recovery from anything.

_~I feel like we can make progress,_~ Sam said.

_*Of course,* _said Jolinar. Her emotions seemed to focus then, and calm a little. _*Did I ever suggest otherwise? I have recovered so often, Samantha...I do not see more trials as inevitable, even if they may be, and I am ready for their end in this period of time. Their swift end.*_

_~Good,~_ said Sam, relieved. _~I didn't want this to be a specter forever.~_

_*I promise you, it will not be.*_

It was the first piece of true hope that they'd shared since Quetesh. Their capacity was lessened, but still enough to send the emotion through their mind and body, giving them strength. Jolinar wouldn't even think of failure. In a few days, certainly, the Council would let them go.

_*I do not believe they have another option in hand,*_ said Jolinar.

_~And we will be ready for them to make the choice,~_ said Sam.

They weren't themselves again. Not yet. Their body still felt slightly different, something they would have to get used to. It was close, though, and sleep was coming with fewer nightmares to remember.


	65. Age

**Chapter 64 - Age**

Sam buried herself in Reyfa and Dru'ri's lab, silent observers. Reyfa held her tongue, not pushing them to conversation. Dru'ri surfaced more often, not as interested in discussion in the first place. Sam just watched, sharing what she could with Jolinar.

_~Remember when I thought of having more time for this?~_ Sam asked, as Dru'ri ran tests on the latest weapon research that Malek had sent from Risa Base.

_*I remember many desires,* _Jolinar said. And they ran through her head, too fast to grab onto. Neither wanted to; neither wanted to feel regret.

With all the memories that Jolinar had, she found a way to filter them. More and more she focused on pleasant memories of conversation and love and triumph. So many others needed suppression, now as perhaps always. Sam found herself doing likewise, pushing aside everything but her successes.

Two days after they spoke to Garshaw, Jacob and Selmak returned from their first mission. Jolinar was ready again, and she and Sam spent an evening with them. Jolinar found that she loved chess now, and halfway through the game she almost smiled. Jacob snorted as if brushing off the major strategic loss he'd just undergone, and Jolinar did smile then.

Her play was more aggressive and simple, but it worked. Sam remembered that she wasn't an expert at the game, and almost sat back as Jolinar stretched her mind more. She'd been afraid that the old things wouldn't feel the same anymore, but the power of memory included the power to forget. They could forget just enough to live.

ooooooo

The gate opened in a building of fairly advanced design, as SG-1 went out on their first new mission in quite some time. No people of any kind could be seen, though, and the curtains had Jack jumping to conclusions.

"Looks like somebody's closed for the winter." He sighed.

Daniel wasn't sure, and walked ahead.

"It's not Goa'uld," Mckay commented, casting his own glance around the odd objects curtained off. "Right, Teal'c?"

"Indeed," Teal'c said. "These devices are unfamiliar to me."

Daniel looked around for some organization to it all, his eye catching what looked like a curtain in front of an entrance. Behind him, though, the team was fairly scattered in the room.

"Oh!" Daniel glanced back to see Mckay, looking down at one of the devices.

"Did you touch it?" Jack asked.

"I did not," Mckay said, slightly protesting. "I know the rules."

"They only really applied to him in the first place, that's why the Colonel remembers them," Dixon said with a chuckle.

 "Don't forget about Daniel," Jack answered warningly.

Daniel looked away from where his gaze was. "Not anymore, Jack. I promised Sha're I wouldn't touch anything weird." He looked back. "I wonder what's in there?"

A voice came out of almost nowhere, and they all jumped. "I am in there."

"Jesus," muttered Jack, gripping his gun.

Daniel made the connection between the voice and the curtain, and nodded to his team. They were all assembled as an old man appeared. White haired and bent over, he was dressed in long robes.

"I am unarmed," he said, but his question was almost unnecessary.

"Good," said Jack. "Who are you?"

Daniel had been focused on the man, surprised at his appearance, when Teal'c walked up next to him.

"You are the one called Ma'chello, are you not?"

The old man frowned, as did Daniel. "Do I know you?" Ma'chello asked.

"You do not," said Teal'c. He glanced slightly back over his shoulder at the team before continuing. "But I have seen images of you, though your face had not been seen in many years." He turned fully to the team. "Before I was born this man was a fugitive from the System Lords. One of my first assignments under Apophis was to hunt him."

Daniel felt a little thrill. This was strange, but fascinating. "What did he do?" he asked Teal'c.

"Developing advanced technology to battle the Goa'uld," said Teal'c simply. "He was captured and tortured and marked as a Goa'uld host. But before the System Lords could retain his knowledge, he killed several Jaffa and escaped."

Daniel glanced back to the old man, this news even more surprising.

Jack thought so too. "He did that?"

Ma'chello shook his head. "I am not this person you speak of."

"Oh don't worry," Daniel assured, seeing the backtracking in the man's behavior. "We're not Goa'ulds."

Ma'chello looked at him. "We are not?" Then, a strange brightness came to his expression. "Of course we are not! Then if we are not Goa'ulds, who are we?"

Daniel paused, trying not to frown. This was getting stranger, certainly. He glanced back to his team—Jack and Dixon stood with weapons ready, Teal'c stood patiently, and Mckay had a skeptical face. "Well, I—I'm Daniel Jackson from the planet Earth."

"Yes, yes!" said Ma'chello, his face all lit up. "I am Daniel Jackson from the planet Earth. Pleased to meet you."

"No, no," protested Daniel, indicating himself. "I'm Daniel Jackson."

"No, I am Daniel Jackson," Ma'chello protested right back.

"It's not as if his identity matters," Mckay brought up. Both Daniel and Ma'chello turned to look at the new speaker, who then rolled his eyes. "Just ask him if these are the Goa'uld-fighting inventions."

"Ah, yes," Ma'chello said before Daniel could ask him. "Inventions to fight the Goa'uld!"

Now Daniel lit up and Mckay looked a little less frustrated. "Can you show us how they work?" Daniel asked.

Ma'chello paused, eyeing Daniel closely. "And we are sure we are not Goa'uld?"

Daniel had to admit, he understood Mckay's skepticism. But he didn't take anything on first basis in this galaxy. "Yes," he assured Ma'chello.

Ma'chello lit up again, as much as such a frail man could. He beckoned with a hand as he moved to one of the curtained areas. "You, you," he said, pointing to Daniel. "Come quickly, inventions to fight the Goa'uld."

Daniel followed him over, not entirely sure that he would actually learn anything. Ma'chello pulled a sheet off of one of the devices, which looked like a double set of bull's horns. He beckoned again to Daniel, holding onto one set of horns.

"What does it do?" asked Daniel.

Ma'chello, nodded to the other set of horns, indicating that Daniel should grab it.

"Mckay, some help?" Daniel asked, looking back.

"What?" the scientist asked, slightly exasperated. Daniel raised his eyebrows, and Mckay sighed. "Oh, you need the scientific opinion about the strange device?"

"Not to fight you," Ma'chello insisted, still holding onto the horns. "Help you."

Mckay walked over, casting one long glance over the object. "Hmm. Well, it's either a piece of junk or highly advanced, since there's no button or switch."

"Ma'chello was not known for creations without function," Teal'c offered.

Daniel's eye was caught by Ma'chello. The lightness of his face had frozen into place, and Daniel could see him breathing faster, his eyes darting between Daniel and Mckay and Teal'c.

"Daniel?" Jack asked from where he still stood with Dixon, though their guns now hung relaxed.

"Hmm," Mckay said again, brow creased as he looked at the thing.

"What does it do?" Daniel asked again, more slowly, as he looked at Ma'chello.

"Help," Ma'chello said, his voice sounding as if it was on the urge of breaking.

Daniel felt confused, a little frustrated. He thought he'd understood Ma'chello for a moment, a slightly eccentric old scientist wanting to show off his creations. But now there seemed something else, and Daniel wasn't sure if he was worried for Ma'chello or for his team.

"Jackson," said Mckay, pulling Daniel's attention from Ma'chello. "I can't tell a thing about this device without taking it apart, and since I don't trust this guy to remember which of his things are Goa'uld killers and which of them aren't, I'm not going to even touch it."

Dixon hmmed.

"And it's technically against the rules," Mckay added, waving his hand as if that didn't matter.

"You can't tell us anything?" Daniel asked, turning back to Ma'chello. He felt helpless in this strange situation.

Ma'chello's breathing was harder, and his eyes wide as he slowly shook his head. Then, to Daniel's shock, he collapsed to the floor.

"Oh no," Daniel said, hurrying to his side, now truly worried.

"We didn't do that, did we?" Mckay asked, concerned.

Daniel put a finger to Ma'chello's neck, and felt relieved to find a pulse. "He's alive," he said. "We need to get him to medical help."

"Dixon, dial the gate," ordered Jack.

Teal'c came to Daniel's side, picking up the frail old man as if he weighed nothing. Mckay and Daniel followed him back to the gate.

"You know, this was looking like it'd be worth it," said Mckay. "Until the crazy happened."

"My thoughts exactly," muttered Jack.

"Which just adds to the strangeness," said Dixon as the chevrons dialed.

"Let's just hope he's okay," said Daniel, frowning. A part of him felt teased by what Teal'c had said, and the tantalizing appearance of technology of his place, and he couldn't bear to have it end without any answer. He hoped it wasn't a dead end or a trap.

Glancing around at the strange technology that might be weaponry against the Goa'uld, but which they might never know, Daniel followed his team through the gate back to Earth.

ooooooo

Sam and Jolinar had counted every one of the ten days spent on the Tok'ra base, but it was the last three before Garshaw approached them that felt longest. Sam felt like she might falter, and love it too much. The quiet, the peace from facing others if they did not feel like it, and the allowance to learn what she could.

_~Tell me about Rosha,~_ she finally asked Jolinar.

Jolinar had seen this coming, and knew that her reaction had given Sam permission to ask aloud. She didn't ask for more, but Jolinar was ready to give it.

She stood in their chamber, and walked over to the mirror. Five months had brought Sam's hair to shoulder-length, and Jolinar could almost bring Rosha's face to her mind. She had seen it in the mirror for over 100 years, but it was hard to remember when your own self seemed to change. Jolinar was distracted for the moment by the long thin silver scar that traced from her left temple all the way down to her breastbone—forever a reminder of one thing she couldn't fix.

_*Rosha was born on a planet more like yours than you might think,*_ Jolinar said, finding her focus again. _*Once it was protected from the Goa'uld, and Rosha's grandmother could remember living free. Even beaten down by the Goa'uld, strength still ran through the veins of all who lived on that planet. I used her as an ally there, because she always maintained that things would succeed—sometimes I wonder if I misused her optimism. I was captured by the Jaffa, held for questioning. Except it would never come; the Jaffa planned to kill me first, Rosha found out. She offered to become my new host so that I might escape. At first I refused to leave Elista behind, but in the end it was not my choice. I submitted to them both, and let Elista offer herself so that the Tok'ra cause might last.*_

Sam kept her thoughts steady, carefully absorbing the information. Jolinar brought up the memory of returning to the Tok'ra, heart broken for more than just the loss of a host. Jolinar had sworn to repay her enslavement of Elista with a life of good purpose; Elista had died, though, and Jolinar felt like she had betrayed her.

It was this, Sam realized as she remembered watching all the faces that she vaguely recognized, that convinced the Tok'ra of Jolinar's loyalty. Her grief for Elista, and Rosha's stubborn efforts to keep Jolinar focused on what could be done, were a marked difference from the impetuous symbiote the Tok'ra had known before. Sam somehow knew this, the same way she knew that Rosha had gone to Selmak at just the right time.

Rosha did not let Jolinar's emotions drag her down in the beginning. Her blending was still new, and she used it to her advantage, spreading an outward appearance of determined joy. Jolinar remembered the brightness of her mind, and she was not the only one.

Sam saw Martouf and Lantash, captivated by Rosha's smile and laughter, rare among the Tok'ra. Jolinar was not so joyful, but Rosha brought her to a comfortable place, and they blended in a way that was fierce and uncompromising. Stubborn, but bright like a star, yet it was Jolinar who fell in love first. Rosha had only a few days of satisfaction in bringing Jolinar to such a place, before she forgot to focus on Jolinar, and found herself looking upward into the face that had Jolinar fascinated.

Then, for a time, Rosha's joy was shared with Jolinar, peace and happiness theirs to hold as they left aside guilt and duty both. Marriage among the Tok'ra was rare, but simple.

Sam couldn't remember a memory of her own with such painful depth. It was only good pain, the kind that comes when there is too much good for a normal heart to hold. Jolinar and Rosha had been as one, with themselves and their love and the Tok'ra and the universe.

_*She did not bring new ideas, for all the change that she brought,* _Jolinar commented, lingering on that peace just long enough in case it could still heal her emotions. _*Only a new will to approach. She felt free to stay silent, leading from behind, but a sharp observer of it all. She could find happiness. My guilt became hers, but she could overwhelm it in a way I had only wished to do.*_

_~And then?~ _Sam asked. She knew something had changed, if only because this Jolinar was not the one that she remembered when they first blended.

_*The Tok'ra are not meant to find true happiness at all times,*_ Jolinar said. _*Pain and loss followed, and Netu last of all. Rosha was not so bright after that; she knew why I was what I was. We were closest in those last years, almost identical. And then we pushed, and Chronus' ashrak found us. I lost her on Nasya, too damaged to heal. Quinta found us, and he was to be my host for a short time. Then he died in the same way and—you know what happened afterwards.*_

Sam could barely remember that far. Or rather, she knew what happened, but could not feel the emotions. They were too different from what she felt now, too different from the ones she could understand. Jolinar had few words for Rosha, but needed no more.

Jolinar left the mirror, sitting on their bed. She was not lost in grief, or pain, or even the emptiness of some of these days of recovery. No one could call it contentment, but Sam felt it as a kind of acceptance, a shrug of the shoulders because there was no cause yet for strong emotions.

_~Thank you,~_ Sam said, and Jolinar shrugged again. She found herself wanting to know more, feeling that what was still separate was a kind of secret-keeping somehow. Even so, she knew how there was only so much time. She took what she could have, gladly.

Jolinar was looking back too far, realizing how much she had grown through Rosha, a journey that was not completed, that had gone on surprisingly far into all she and Sam had done together. She shook her head, the openness intriguing even to her. _*Will you tell me of some of your life?*_ she asked.

Sam thought of her father, her mother, and realized just how much she had kept quiet in her life. Things she called insignificant compared to others, but that added up into the shape of her life.

_~I had a good start in life,_~ she began.

Jolinar sat back, listening, mind calm. Even though Sam knew that it would start to hurt soon, she smiled to herself, and began to share her story.

ooooooo

"He still hasn't told us anything," Janet explained. Like so often, only Daniel and Mckay waited for news of Ma'chello's condition. "And I'm not sure he has any time left." She twisted her hands, frowning at all she couldn't do.

The eccentric but active man that they had first seen on the planet disappeared as soon as he woke from his collapse back in the SGC. Ma'chello had lain brooding and silent since then. The rest of the team didn't see anything else from their mission, but Daniel couldn't put aside his curiosity. He talked to Teal'c, asking for more stories of Ma'chello. Teal'c had none, only regret that they should end like this.

Mckay had seen the technology of Ma'chello's lab, though. Despite the possible danger, he was itching to learn more. And if they really fought the Goa'uld as they were supposed to, Daniel would be feeling the same.

"So what now?" Daniel said. If Ma'chello would not or could not speak, and if he was as near death's door as Janet's continual assessment said, he feared that the mission was just a tantalizing failure.

"It's not my call," said Janet with a sigh.

Daniel nodded.

"I can't imagine that I can't crack the code somehow," Mckay said, shuffling in his seat. "If Hammond can send someone back in protective gear, then surely it'll be safe to bring one of the objects back."

"You're going to do tests on it here?" Daniel asked, a little wary. "What if it really is a weapon?"

"I'm not going to activate anything," Mckay said, rolling his eyes. "There's a kind of notepad with writing on it, and if Ma'chello is as smart as he's supposed to be, it's probably some kind of computer, maybe with instructions. That, and the device that he said would 'help', and I can figure out how the things fit together."

"You think," said Daniel. "Well, I don't know if the General will allow that."

"A possible defense against the Goa'uld, and he's just going to turn his back?" Mckay asked rhetorically.

Daniel shrugged.

An hour later, he was standing by the gate, waiting for Jack and Dixon to come back. Teal'c had returned already with the computer device in a protected carrying case, and Jack and Dixon were supposed to be on his heels.

Suddenly they stumbled through the gate with the horned object, dropping it at the bottom of the ramp. Dixon ripped off his hazmat mask, face frustrated in a way that Dixon's almost never was.

"What is it?" asked Daniel, concerned.

"That," Dixon said, emphasizing the word, "did not go well. At all."

"Yes sir," sighed Jack.

"Wait, what?" Mckay said, shaking his head as if he'd heard wrong.

Daniel hadn't quite placed it when 'Jack' turned to Mckay. "Well, Mckay, hazmat doesn't work."

"Yes, brilliant plan that," said 'Dixon' sarcastically. "And Daniel, why don't you congratulate Mijello on his 'help', which apparently involves body-swapping."

"What?" Mckay said again.

Daniel just stared, hearing Jack's tone coming from Dixon's mouth. It was too well done to be a prank, he somehow knew. "Jack?" he asked, looking at 'Dixon'.

"Ya think?" 'Dixon' asked right back.

"Oh god," muttered Mckay.

Daniel just sighed. Body-swapping. This was just...not good at all.

ooooooo

"Mrs. Dixon, now is not a good time," Daniel said, meeting Clara as she came down the hall towards the infirmary.

Clara frowned. "Why? Has he hurt himself again?"

"No, not really," Daniel assured her, glancing back to the infirmary, but confident in the truth of his words.

Clara gave him a look, and continued walking. "But something's up."

"Yes, but I'm sure he doesn't think you need to know," Daniel said, keeping up with her.

They turned into the infirmary, and Daniel sighed. Too many people, and not in hospital beds, for it to be a normal day.

"Dear gods, this body is old!" exclaimed 'Jack', leaning over and touching his knees.

"Oh, stop it," answered 'Dixon', tapping his foot on the floor as he sat in a chair, glaring at the device that only they had touched.

"Clara," commented 'Jack' with surprise, looking up. He stood up straighter.

"Colonel?" Clara answered, confused. She took a few steps forward.

"Uh, you shouldn't be here," said 'Jack', casting a hasty glance to 'Dixon'.

'Dixon' looked up. "Gah—Daniel!"

Daniel shrugged. It wasn't like he could have helped this from happening.

"What's going on?" asked Clara, putting a hand to her hip. She pointed to the object. "And what is this?"

"Don't, don't touch that," Mckay snapped, coming across the infirmary from where Ma'chello still lay, Ma'chello's computer in his hand. "We don't want any more accidents, or before we know, everyone will be scrambled with no cure."

"Rodney, don't talk nonsense," admonished Clara. "And I wasn't going to touch it."

"I don't talk nonsense," blustered Mckay back. "These two managed to get their minds switched with each others, and guess who was left to figure the whole mess out?"

"Seriously?" Clara asked, slightly incredulous. She turned to 'Dixon', who indicated 'Jack'.

"Sorry, hon," said 'Jack'.

"Oh good god," Clara muttered, putting a hand to her head. "I shouldn't even think about what goes on in here..."

Daniel sighed. It had been a long day already, especially since Ma'chello still wouldn't speak. He seemed to have lost all interest in life too, no longer even brooding. Daniel and Janet were both afraid that he would die.

"Well, if the obvious lesson is over, then maybe I can get back to work without worrying about Jackson letting random people near the body-snatcher of death?" Mckay said pointedly.

Daniel nodded.

"Who makes that kind of device anyway?" Clara wondered, taking a seat to wait for the solution.

"It almost made sense," said Daniel, as 'Dixon' and 'Jack' avoided looking at each other or Clara or the object. "Except, there's no way of reversing the process, that we've found yet. I mean, there has to be one, but it's not the main purpose of this."

"It's Goa'uld, isn't it?" Clara said, in a tone that said she should have expected it.

"Actually, no, it's to defeat them," Daniel said.

Clara snorted. "I should be upset, really, but they've survived worse, right? All this was meant to do was get a bunch of Goa'uld too busy scrambling themselves so they could find the right body again...it's not even deadly."

Daniel nodded, glad to have that interpretation. Jack and Dixon had been much more dramatic about it all, which had almost been entertaining. Then, he paused. "Wait," he said.

Clara's eyebrow rose. "What?"

Daniel tried to remember what she said, one of the words right on the tip of his tongue. "Scrambler," he said. "You said this thing was a scrambler."

"That's what Rodney said," Clara answered, slightly confused.

Daniel's mind was figuring it out faster than he could say it. "You might have an idea we hadn't tried, though."

ooooooo

"We have judged your request now," said Garshaw, approaching Sam and Jolinar in the hall. She stood, calm, arms resting at her sides. "With much dissent, it was decided that you may be fit for duty again."

Sam nodded, though strangely unmoved by this success.

"We do indeed require an underground position on Dorieth," Garshaw continued, her arms coming up to cross loosely across her chest. "However, only the utmost subtlety can be allowed. You will infiltrate as one of the slaves on the planet, and you must go in as understated a disguise as you can. Remain in contact with our other operative, and carry out only what is necessary."

"You don't need to worry about that," Sam said, bowing her head slightly. "We do not want risks." Jolinar agreed; the anger and passion for this mission was naturally finding a slow burn, feelings deep enough to influence everything and yet leave time for planning. If there was any success to be had, both of them knew that strategy was necessary. And would make their triumph sweet enough, perhaps, to replace the guilt of nearly ruining it with impulse and intuition.

"Much of this is not within our usual practices, as Jolinar should know," Garshaw continued, looking directly at Sam.

Sam nodded slowly. So they were a special case, as always.

Garshaw turned to leave.

_~How can we disguise ourselves?~ _Sam wondered.

Jolinar started to think, and a hint of interest started to come to them, changing the flatness of the past days. It wasn't just something they had to do; this was something they might even want to do.

For the first time in at least a week, they had something that wasn't recovery. Back in the field was where they needed to be.

ooooooo

From what Teal'c said, or didn't say, Daniel was glad that for Sha're's sake he hadn't risked himself by testing his theory on Ma'chello's body-swapping machine personally. Instead, he watched with relief and amusement as everyone protested, and then carried it out with resigned interest.

Mckay and Dixon-in-Jack did it first, and it worked. Jack shuddered, and muttered beneath his breath that he didn't ever want to see Mckay in his body again. Daniel shook his head with silent laughter, because only here could that sentence make sense.

Mckay-in-Jack then switched with Jack-in-Dixon, and Jack stretched and shook the muscles that were now his again. Mckay and Dixon got back to their bodies next, and then Clara ordered Dixon not to touch anything offworld ever again, even through hazmat.

There was one last thing to do, though, and Dixon and Jack, now immune, took the device back to Ma'chello's planet. The man died that evening, his code still unsolved and everyone wondering what exactly had happened to him.


	66. Same Old

**Chapter 65 - Same Old**

According to Selmak, the Council had contacted Martouf and Lantash to find a time for Sam and Jolinar to sneak into Dorieth, by going offworld and then joining another slave transfer. Once there, they should be able to blend in with a disguise.

A disguise. Sam first looked in the mirror, pictured herself in slave guard and without the Jaffa tattoo she had worn previously. That would have been enough, except for her hair. She fingered her dyed-blonde hair, knowing it was a rare color, especially among slaves.

_*That can be fixed,* _said Jolinar.

If the Tok'ra had resources for anything, it was for effective infiltration, including appropriate disguises. Jolinar was given something that would strip all but the natural dye from hair. Sam had always liked her golden hair, but she didn't need it. She was quick to agree to the permanence of the disguise, and before the day was out, she was looking at almost a new self in the mirror.

Her natural hair was a mousy blonde color like it had been as a child, dark without being quite brown. Easily long enough to pull back, she did so—it accentuated the slight angular look her face had. She'd lost weight during their healing, and hadn't gained it all back. Along with the scar, and the way that there was no tattoo to draw the gaze upward, she only recognized herself because she knew. They'd still have to play it differently, but she doubted that anyone would be on the lookout for Coron in disguise.

Other than perhaps the Abydonians. She'd gotten it approved with the Council that she could speak to them, eventually, once her cover was established. Their actions had come to the attention of both Martouf and Lantash, and through him the Council. Slightly disturbed, but not wanting to mess with something that worked, the Council had agreed to keeping the status quo. Cautiously, and it was not something they would have chosen—still, it was enough for Sam and Jolinar.

Finally clad in worn but functional clothes, Jolinar walked up to the gate for the first time in what felt like forever. Shan'ak still waited and did his job as always. Sam listened to the sound of each locking chevron, and felt the desire for this mission course through her veins again.

_*Ready?*_

_~Definitely.~_

Maybe a little sharper, maybe less at ease, but by the time they were through the gate Sam and Jolinar felt like they'd regained something. It was night on this planet, and quietly they slipped among the slaves gathered for morning transfer.

Coron had come naturally to them when their mission first started, and now a new identity began to rise easily. Devret. Jolinar chose the name, but together they found their unobtrusive side and pushed it forward.

The morning came and Jolinar saw no Jaffa that she recognized when they came to lead Jolinar and her fellow slaves to the gate. Jolinar hunched over a little, letting her lids shade her eyes. For the first time on this mission, they weren't sure what would happen on the other side.

Dorieth was not the same place they'd left three weeks ago. The rubble from the temple had been pushed aside, some of it gone entirely. What was left on the bottom was being reassembled into a foundation. And Jolinar had no idea what the eventual result would be. The control wasn't theirs anymore.

She curbed her curiosity and did not look again. At first it seemed like they would be put to use on the road—and that's continued existence gave Sam a moment of morbid satisfaction—but then they and a few others were withdrawn and sent to an area just off the mines that was being stripped of lumber. On the road up there, Jolinar smelled smoke and saw it rising over the horizon to the north.

_*That would explain the absence of some of the rubble. I would guess that additional furnaces have been built.*_

_~Which is the reason for the wood, I'm guessing.~_

_*This world is not technologically advanced enough to have more machinery. It seems that Quetesh had one purpose alone, and our destruction...*_

_~Really messed up the balance,~_ Sam finished.

The terrain was steep and difficult up to the tropical forests that covered the western hills of Dorieth, and the Jaffa stopped three quarters of the way up. Ordering Jolinar and the other slaves forward, they held that position, calling up commands that were relayed to the furthermost part of the lumber camp.

Relieved that they would not be watched, Jolinar took herself and Sam up as high as possible, and was glad to be in the shade.

_*Now to work,* _Jolinar said, but prematurely.

"Samantha?" Jolinar tensed at the disastrous word and did not turn in answer. She didn't have to, as the speaker came around to check his assumption. "You are Samantha."

Jolinar paused, and glanced to make sure that the Jaffa were well out of the way. This was an Abydonian, the one who had approached Sam and Jolinar about their disguise on this very planet. Creot was his name, she thought she remembered.

"I almost did not recognize you," Creot said, a low voice, a bit of a smile on his face. "But I was expecting this."

"Is that so?" Jolinar asked in a low voice.

"I saw and heard what you did before," Creot continued. "I knew that you would do anything to succeed in this mission, as Kasuf relayed to us. When you disappeared, and Tirnin the false god said that you were disgraced, I did not believe it."

"Then you are half-foolish," Jolinar said, but without harshness.

Creot bowed his head. "I do not choose to despair."

Jolinar paused, but decided that Sam's feeling was right. "In this instance you were correct. We have returned to aid you, and all the peoples on this planet."

"Then we will have sanctuary ready for you," Creot said, nodding.

"Later," Jolinar cautioned. The moment of surprise at this meeting did not past quickly, though.

Despite the exercise they'd been able to achieve on the Tok'ra homeworld, the rest of the day challenged their limits already. Jolinar's symbiote strength didn't carry as far as it should, and Sam felt little twitches threatening their movement. They swung the ax with wide strokes, and it stopped feeling good when thudding into the trees with a shuddering vibration sent her hints of nausea.

Darkness fell, and the end of the shift welcomed them. Silent and relieved, sweat lines on her dusty face, Sam walked with the rest of the slaves back to their quarters. She saw just enough room for her and Jolinar to squeeze in one corner.

But then, the next shift left, and before Sam could settle, Creot had beckoned her towards him and started talking. Not too loudly, just enough that his fellow slaves would quiet down to listen. "Oh my family," he said, the Abydonian opening sounding strange but welcome in the common tongue. "Be quiet and listen to my words."

With only a buzz breaking the silence, Sam watched everyone move to the center of the chambers, huddling so that Creot's voice could be quiet. Not all were Abydonians, and Sam wondered how Creot could almost command them like this. When they were all ready, he continued.

"Once we had the aid of one who served the false gods under pretenses," Creot said, voice low but firm enough to carry to the group. "Coron."

Sam felt a little proud as she saw the heads nodding.

"Coron was discovered and cannot return," Creot continued. "But the one who gave Coron life has returned to us to fulfill her mission." He put his hand on Sam's shoulder, and the entire group shifted their gaze.

A hush fell. Jolinar was wary for a moment, and Sam's stance became a little uncomfortable.

"Then we may yet prevail?" one of the Abydonians among the group asked.

Creot nodded, and the group murmured amongst themselves, possibly hopeful. "She is here to help us, and we are here to help her."

Sam nodded to them all, unsure, and then suddenly the crowd was pressing closer, and the buzz of a barely audible murmur surrounded her. Her breath caught in her chest, and she felt hands resting on her head and shoulders, as if in blessing. Jolinar soothed her heart's rate, recognizing that this was no attack, only a kind of reverence.

They started to back up, and Sam looked into their faces, seeing desperate eyes circled with dark shadows. Her tension faded as she saw the faint light of hope, the trembling of some hands, the instant looks of openness. To them, she was another equal.

Her heart swelled in a way she hadn't felt in a while. It hurt, and she swallowed sharply. She put out her hand, gently touching each of the hands near her, looking from face to face. The crowd no longer invaded, it was filling the sense of emptiness that for a moment she'd forgotten waited back there. "I make my vow to you," she said quietly, firmly. "I am here to do all in my power to see that Quetesh is brought down, and all of you are freed."

More hands were outstretched, reaching through to the center of the circle, helping affirm the shared vow.

"And we," said one of the non-Abydonians. "We cannot let you be discovered again."

There was a murmur of approval, but Jolinar didn't know what it meant.

"Today is the last day that you must expose yourself to the Jaffa," agreed Creot, nodding. "We will hide you among us, our light hidden beneath a jar."

Sam and Jolinar both had nothing to say, not having expected these words.

"There are many of us, and only few Jaffa, so there should be no fear for any of us," answered the other one who had spoken.

"What shall we call you?" one of the women asked.

Sam swallowed. "Devret," she said.

"You will be safe on this world, Devret," said another Abydonian, putting his hand on Sam's shoulder. "And together we will succeed against all false gods."

Jolinar inwardly blustered at his overconfidence, but even so, it was a pleasant reminder. Sam gave a slight smile, and nodded her acceptance. Already, Creot started to speak to "his" people, beginning the plans that would keep Sam and Jolinar hidden in safety.

They weren't supposed to feel this support. Their mission was supposed to be covert. But as they saw the initiative and agency of these people, nurtured to be rebellious over long time, Sam felt the pull of memory. Teamwork. Jolinar could scarce remember when she'd last needed it, but Sam could.

And in that moment, Sam said something, but only moments before the words came to Jolinar. Screw the Tok'ra High Council. This mission would succeed because of cooperation, and Jolinar and Sam would make sure of it. Any information that could be useful, Sam decided that they would share. And together, they would put a plan together.

Sam settled down in a corner that could not be seen from any door, tucked behind a curtain. "Thank you," she said, nodding to the young man who got her settled. She paused, then realized she'd need to start a new habit. "And what is your name?"

"Drego," he said, nodding. "And it is _my_ thanks that I would give, rather."

"Maybe you should wait until we get something done," Sam said, but she gave him a last nod.

Her exhaustion didn't weigh so heavily as she fell asleep that night.

ooooooo

In the morning, as Daniel saw nothing urgent on his agenda, his mind seemed to leap in response to remind him. Dr. Jordan—had he really not had contact with him since that one and only mission? In all that had happened, he wondered if Jordan had forgotten him, or at least thought Daniel had done so.

Before picking up the phone to give a call, Daniel paused to think. Did he mention Sha're and Shifu, the two who had taken so much of his time? Or did he jump, maybe, to the Ancient discoveries that would surely interest the professor? Maybe he could fax over the information first, so that they could discuss first impressions together. But no, that wouldn't work, not with Jordan probably having assistants in his office who were not cleared.

Shaking all that off, Daniel dialed the university office number of Dr. Jordan.

"Uh, yes, Dr. Jordan please?" he said as soon as someone picked up the phone. He tucked his under his chin, opening up his computer files related to the Ancient legacy device.

"_This is Dr. Gardner, but I'm afraid he isn't in. May I take a message?"_

Daniel wasn't prepared to hear the warm British tones. Somewhere in the back of his mind he'd known Sarah was still working with Jordan. But this... "Uh, let him know Dr. Daniel Jackson called?" he barely got out without stumbling.

"_Daniel?"_

"It's been a long time, Sarah," he said, not sure what to read from her shocked tone. That, at least, was true.

"_Three years,"_ he heard her voice come through the line, flatter than even the phone distortion made it.

There was a long pause. "Well, I'll just call back later."

"_Yes, I'm sure that will be acceptable,"_ Sarah said coolly.

Daniel put his phone back on the hook, and sighed. An empty day, free for any impression, and this was how it started.

There was a reason he'd chosen this life. A reason he still lived on base, rather than vouching for Sha're to come home with him to his apartment in the "real" world. And it would still be valid for a while yet.

ooooooo

The next morning, Jolinar was stunned to see the organization of the Doriens (the only name Sam could devise, since it was only in her mind that she would use it). She and Sam had seen that they were cooperating somehow, before, as they slowly rebelled against their Jaffa commanders. She could not have guessed the extent, however.

The Abydonians had started it. Creot and Inchen she had met before, and they led well from the head. Nirishi managed the structure, however. She was not young and fiery, but well into middle age and only quietly strong. Her labors had been the first to unite both Abydonians and those who had never known freedom, and nearly half of the planet now looked to her in some way. All of them were accounted for, and all of them kept aware of whatever went on. Creot might tell Inchen to test the limits, but it was Nirishi who kept everything low key.

Jolinar stayed with her during this day. She was responsible for the food production, and managed to smuggle Jolinar in; the Jaffa did not pay close attention to such trivial things as rations preparation, only what products went in and came out.

They'd practiced using single words, quietly spoken in the Abydonian that the Jaffa didn't know, as a way to transfer information to everyone in the know on the planet. If a new plan was made, all the Doriens would know within the day. They already knew of "Devret", or of Coron's return, rather. And if Devret wanted to command them to do something else, they would be swiftly ready.

Jolinar barely left the dark smoky building where Nirishi and others prepared the food, but when she did, she managed to see from the edges of the settlement how orderly were all the slaves involved. And she started to see more and more possibilities.

Night came again, and Sam's encouragement was barely necessary. Darkness filled the packed quarters where the "leaders" of the Doriens gathered.

"There is almost a plan," Jolinar said in a low voice. "But it will require that which does not come naturally. What do any of you know of the Free Jaffa?"

Only one voice spoke up, a woman called Oraea. "A myth?"

"No," Jolinar answered. "No, that is what the false gods would have us all believe."

A gentle murmur rippled through the crowd.

"Without the Jaffa, what would the Goa'uld be?" Jolinar continued. "Nothing. And they know this well. It is why they train their Jaffa from birth to be the children of falsehood, and make them the enemies of those who are no more slaves. The Jaffa are just as much slaves as you, unable to rebel lest they lose their lives and the lives of their children."

Following closely on her last words, Jolinar could hear that the people listened.

"So we will free you all from the hands of the Goa'uld. Some Jaffa have already rebelled for good, and have survived. Before this planet can be freed from Quetesh, the same must be done with her Jaffa here."

"Surely it will not work with them all," said Drego in a quiet but earnest tone.

That was probably true, but Sam had high hopes. "It does not need to be unanimous," Jolinar said. And there was always the power of the contagion of rebellion.

Hope for freedom drowned out all other prejudices, Jolinar saw, as she continued to talk. Sam could understand that, could see how their minds had been opened to so many things, so that seeing themselves as equals of the Jaffa was only a small step. And it would mean more numbers to face Quetesh with.

Jolinar explained the plan, explained how Tirnin was not a Goa'uld but another spy, to bring down Quetesh from within her own ranks. Devret would lead the Doriens and all Free Jaffa that they converted against Quetesh, and they would defend themselves and drive out all her influence from this planet. That would be an example to others, and a drop in a pool of water; the ripples would spread, as the people would take up Quetesh's arms to use against her.

The sheer thrill of the endeavor, untinged by the worries that plagued Jolinar and Sam, filtered through the Doriens like wind through a flapping door. The grandeur, the audaciousness, and the chance of success—each effort became more focused, as hope sprung vibrant in every heart, giving more reason to appear whatever part was theirs.

With each hour, they were becoming more connected. With each new day, something like an army would come closer to being, united under leadership chosen rather than assigned. Jolinar felt the spread of her influence, and though she had not taken it by force, the power was still there. No longer alone, little fears started to fade away for good with no effort from her.

When morning came, she had the Doriens on the lookout for Jaffa rebellion. Two reports came back quickly, of Jaffa seen arguing amongst themselves about what Quetesh might or might not know. Doubt. Any was good. And as Jolinar walked the perimeters, she saw the discord more closely than the Doriens could. They still saw their captors, but Sam and Jolinar had lived with the Jaffa as subordinates.

_~They sense something wrong about this whole situation,~_ said Sam.

_*All reports said that this world has been crudely handled since our absence.*_

_~And with the seeds we sowed before, it must be even more a mess.~_

_*Everything is seething underneath the apparent calm,*_ Jolinar remarked, as she one Jaffa strike out at a Doriethenne, only to find himself approached by a Jaffa further up in the hierarchy, and rebuked in some subtle way. The Jaffa had been a harsh race, but never blunt or entirely brutal.

Sam noted next the disorder of the Jaffa, and how little they noted what the Doriens did. No one remarked on productivity, demanding more of it. They merely frowned, as if unsure whether they really wanted this.

And things on the planet still festered after the destruction of the temple. There was no shadow on the settlement in the morning, and only the mountains to the west offered shade in the afternoon. A stench hung where the rubble was slowly disappearing, and a new platform set into place. There was no eagerness, though, only drudgery, on all sides. The heat could explain much, as could the destruction of morale because of disaster, still an unsolved mystery to the people of this world.

But even more, Quetesh had let things slip. When things were well, her laxness served in her favor. Now, she should have held the ropes tight, ordered everything perfectly in line. Instead she'd let it fail, not establishing proper leadership quickly and permanently.

And just as Sam thought that maybe things were getting close, Quetesh was on their heels again.

Jolinar felt the moment of panic first when the gate activated. No warning, and the timing was all wrong. Even from the edge, completely out of reach, she recognized who was coming through. Quetesh was back.

"What do we do?" asked Nirishi, breathing in slowly from where she stood behind Sam.

Heart pounding in her chest and mind, Sam managed to say in an even voice, "Nothing is connected to us yet."

_*But this could influence us, even if—*_ Jolinar managed.

Sam knew that. She could feel the sand falling faster from their hourglass, and they had only just started. What disaster would Quetesh bring this time?

Standing in the shelter of the treeline, Sam just watched Quetesh's envoy go to the Jaffa commander's housing, and disappear within. Then, for hours, nothing happened.

Their signals had already improved, and soon Sam heard that no one knew why she had come. She had given no demands, to either Jaffa or slaves.

"And if there is some demand?" Inchen asked Sam, more worried.

Sam bit her lip, understanding his question. What if Quetesh demanded a price in blood, for some unknown reason? Or some equally disastrous request? What escape was set in place? "I'm not sure yet," she said.

"We are all ready to fight for whatever you want," Inchen assured her, leaning in close.

Sam shook her head. "Don't assume. Not yet."

She'd barely been back on the planet two days. As the night shifts started, and Quetesh still stayed within the housing, Sam and Jolinar got closer to the village. The Jaffa spoke worriedly among themselves, not caring who heard. Quetesh seemed upset, but why come like that? What did she mean? In the shadows cast by flickering torches, Sam flitted among them, almost invisible in her near-camouflage robes.

_~We didn't come back too soon at all,~_ she said to Jolinar, heart still pounding.

The tone was dangerous around every corner, and Sam came back to her hidden hideaway among the Doriens with a whole variety of worries. But most of all, that things were too volatile. Too much tension, too much to judge what direction they'd snap if the tension was suddenly and forcefully broken. And that was sure to happen.

But the hope was still new in them, too, and that had to mean something.

—

_Author's Notes_: I'm back from vacation now. Thank you all so much for your feedback! I'm afraid I won't have time to reply to it, but I'm definitely taking it all into account, and will try to reply to future feedback.


	67. Impulse

**Chapter 66 - Impulse**

Jolinar felt that they had to sleep, but every dream was too close to reality, and every time they woke the worries came back. The plan, the plan was grand and simple and lived in abstractions. The moment they stepped foot on Dorieth, the moment the Jaffa and Doriens were faces that weren't predictable, the moment Quetesh was there in person and not just a shadowy figure—then the little moments counted immediately, and the plan had to change with each one.

The sun barely scraped over the horizon when Quetesh's first order went out, through her Jaffa. Shadows still shrouded most of the settlement, and when Sam woke, Jolinar was already up and hidden more. The Doriens rose swiftly and went to work, making sure no one could suspect them.

In the cool dimness of morning, Jolinar slipped out of the building and up the nearest hill to a small tree cluster. The Jaffa gave more orders, and faster, this morning, and Jolinar glanced over to the commander's house as if she might see an answer written on the walls.

_~I would think she wanted to wait until something better was built for her to stay in.~_

Jolinar frowned, analyzing the Jaffa's movement.

Traffic slowed instantly towards the temple ruins, but the distribution evaded Jolinar at first. From this spot, she could only just barely see across to where the road dipped down to the fields. Many Doriens were being directed down there, but even more seemed to be moving around the settlement itself, their movement almost like scrambling from Jolinar's point of view.

_~And what about the quarries, or the lumber?~ _Sam asked.

Jolinar glanced up, and saw limited movement. The sun was rising slowly, and it finally glinted into Jolinar's eye. She squinted, looking back at the main settlement and chewing the inside of her lip. _*She consolidated the slave presence.*_

_~Is that why she's here? It would make barely any sense.~_

The question was rhetorical, and that was good, given the limited information. The day started to pass, and information trickled back to Sam and Jolinar. Nayron reported that Quetesh had not come with any escorts other than Jaffa and a lotar. Only moments later, Vishepa passed along that while Quetesh's Jaffa were impassive, the ones of Dorieth now looked worried.

Though that could hardly add to their worry, Sam and Jolinar were nevertheless glad when the hints turned into clearer facts. An hour before midday, there was a sudden new order. Drego passed where Jolinar stationed herself, and the quick message was that Quetesh wanted a tour of Dorieth.

Jolinar crept downhill, behind the nearest building, and then into the empty housing where she and the Dorien leaders had been meeting. She changed her outer robe for a more voluminous one, pulling back her hair tightly out of the way. A thin scrap of pale fabric wrapped around her head and snaked around her neck, changing just enough of her silhouette. As Doriens scurried back to stand ready for Quetesh's appearance, Jolinar breathed out. _*Samantha?*_

Sam didn't understand at first, as the control was proffered, then realized that Jolinar's inner control was barely sound enough to think of Quetesh. Were she to try and control their body too, she might snap with the strain. Just that thought reminded Sam that just because she'd successfully repressed so much didn't mean that she'd forgotten.

The sun shone down unimpeded from a blue sky. Sam's brow furrowed, and she could feel the slight warping of the scar on her face as she did so. Her head ducked slightly as she stood in the back of those slaves who lined the roads.

This house was on a slight hill, so they could all see Quetesh as she left her temporary dwelling. Then she moved swiftly, surrounded by personal Jaffa and tailed closely by a brilliantly clad lotar. Not even pausing, she swung her head from the left to the right and back again, hair swinging. She drew closer to Sam and Jolinar, and they noticed the bright light of her eyes as she did so, absorbing what she saw with more than a little emotion. But she barely passed by them at all, turning sharply down the road towards the quarries.

"Do not return to work!" snapped one of the Jaffa, close enough for Sam and Jolinar to hear clearly. "Hold yourself!"

Sam slid closer into the group, finding Creot. "I assume you don't know much?"

Creot barely turned his head to her, speaking without moving his lips. "What could I? Quetesh is holding all secrets to herself."

Sam didn't feel any surprise. It seemed like an hour they stood there, and then Quetesh was coming back down the roads. Her sapphire-blue dress shone in the sunlight, and swept behind her with each long stride. Sam still couldn't read anything in her face exactly, and Jolinar neither. The road had been repaired since the explosion, and Quetesh followed it down to the fields. Again, Sam stood with the Doriens and waited with swallowed breath.

Drego, a few paces ahead, threw a small glance back after another half hour. There was nothing happening, either physically or mentally, but Sam felt like there should be. Just as she was steeling herself for another calm wait, the slightest of murmurs ran through all the assembled Doriens, and she saw Quetesh rise from the valley below.

A few minutes later, and Sam realized that Quetesh was heading towards the center of the settlement. There was no way she could get closer, so she just squinted her eyes and watched carefully.

As soon as Quetesh passed, suddenly the murmur became audible, and Sam felt her worry rise. In the main square that had once led up to the temple steps, Quetesh turned. A fresh breeze blew from behind her, and hit Sam full on the face, but she still couldn't hear the words. No need, though, as they started being passed down.

"She sees no reason why we should be surprised at this," Nirishi said in Abydonian, just loud enough for the small group to here. "Her disappointment is grave. Our focus was too wide, and our control too lax."

"Our focus? That she ordered?" Inchen broke in, his Abydonian also quiet, though emotionally packed.

_*She realized that she was too easy.*_

"Our devotion has been flawed, and now we must remember exactly what it was for," Nirishi continued.

Jolinar didn't like the sound of that any more than Sam.

"We are to tear down this village, and—finish the foundation and build some kind of structure," Nirishi said, her voice catching, words more obviously paraphrase. "Tonight."

Sam's gaze had defocused, but it sharply went back to Quetesh. The false goddess hadn't changed that she could see, standing tall and still, the light breeze flapping both dress and hair.

"Tonight," said Inchen in a low voice. "Or what?"

"Or she will find a new world to turn her will towards." Nirishi let the last information passed along hang for a second before she let out a long, shaky breath.

Their group didn't start murmuring first, but the rise in noise hit Sam only then.

"She can't abandon us," Creot said. "That is not—"

"That is not the Goa'uld way," said Sam, as she and Jolinar caught on with a frown. "She means to imply that if she is not obeyed, she will finish this world for good."

Quetesh had finished speaking, and was walking back up to the commander's quarters. Jaffa started barking out orders, and most of the Doriens were hastening to follow.

"Why?" Inchen asked, as Creot and Nirishi managed to quickly move away with Sam, just for a few minutes.

_~It's not very good leadership,~ _Sam said in her head, still formulating thoughts.

_*It is not a good situation,*_ Jolinar said, then caught on.

"She must do this," Jolinar said aloud. "She has no other choice."

The two Dorien leaders turned to her, and Inchen paused a moment. They had slipped beneath a canopy on the far side of one of the buildings.

Jolinar continued at the speed of her thoughts. "Somehow she is desperate, or desperate for her ground forces. Her plan was devastated by the ruining of the temple, and so now she has a world that is eating away at all her resources and numbers. To transfer vast numbers would scream that her mind has changed, that she made a mistake. It wouldn't be natural, and it would tear at her facade of goddesshood. So she turns the apparent choice into your hands and graciously gives you a chance to change her mind. When she knows it is impossible, or nearly so—but it is the appearance that matters."

"So we are doomed?" Nirishi asked, putting a hand out to touch Jolinar's.

Jolinar had spoken dispassionately, as the words had come. But Sam had been free to think, and as Jolinar felt her rough interpretation, suddenly the gravity matched Nirishi's.

_~God, she might destroy the planet today.~_

_*No, she doesn't have a ship. She can't do that. All she can do is—*_

_~Decimate the population.~_

"This was not expected," Jolinar said, looking each one of them straight in the eye.

"But it is impossible to escape," Creot finished the unspoken thought, adding a single nod.

Jolinar sighed.

_~This must have been an impulse on her part.~_

_*And so now we must be impulsive.*_

"We don't have time," Sam said. "And neither do you."

"So we make a stand," guessed Inchen, shifting closer and lowering his voice.

"Maybe," Sam said, unsure. "Just go, and be prepared." She nodded to each of them, then heard the approaching steps of Jaffa.

The Dorien leaders almost vanished as soon as Sam finished speaking, finding their way back into the crowds. Sam took the moment to withdraw back to her former hiding place, watching. Midday was just past, and they had until nightfall. This time of year, they had a couple hours more than usual, given that the sun would pass over a low portion of the mountains. But even then?

_*Unless their performance is beyond what seems possible, Quetesh will find a way to spin it to destruction. She doesn't want them here, doing this, but if they are exemplary...*_

_~But if she doesn't want Dorieth to stay like this, it doesn't matter. She needs to either kill or transfer people to make better use of her resources. And if they are all split up—~_

_*We cannot do anything.*_

_~Escape or fight, we need to do it tonight.~_

ooooooo

Only their third day back, and Sam and Jolinar weren't ready. Sam's heart was pounding as she watched what was happening, gathering all the pieces, and her breaths came sharply through a tight jaw.

_~We weren't supposed to do this. Dorieth isn't supposed to matter now, so that's supposed to be okay.~_

_*It's not only about strategy. We always acknowledged that.*_

_~But what will we do, try and fail just because we have a conscience? Nothing's ready.~_

_*You are entirely wrong there. Look.*_

Sam again focused her gaze on the settlement, each figure rapidly moving, other than the Jaffa giving more orders than necessary. She caught Jolinar's point almost instantly; below were desperate people, all of them, understanding the undertones of Quetesh better than Quetesh may have wanted. They'd been protected for so long, they had become complacent, and Quetesh's power had waned to an impression.

_~But that doesn't mean that they'll stop her; they just want to live.~_

_*Surely you know what people who want to live are capable of.*_

_~But who will rebel? The Jaffa? The Doriens? Both?~ _

Jolinar caught her point. On edge, if a Jaffa rebelled, the others might strike him down. There was even greater chance of Jaffa trying to quell a slave rebellion, rather than join it.

_*What if we don't let it get that far. What if we take out Quetesh.*_

Sam shivered involuntarily. _~Personally? Assassinate her, you mean.~_

_*Yes,* _said Jolinar simply. _*Everyone's troubles are over.*_

Sam violently shook her head, feeling the worry mix with a sudden revulsion that almost felt like panic. _~No, wait, no. Quetesh is—Quetesh is a Goa'uld. You can't just assassinate like—~_

Jolinar didn't need the words. Her cold desire faded swiftly, quelling Sam's fear. _*The host. I beg pardon.*_

_~No, it's fine,~ _Sam said. _~I was upset at myself. I almost forgot too.~ _She glanced down, repeating to herself that she did not see Quetesh. She saw an innocent woman who Quetesh used.

Jolinar restructured her plan almost instantly, however. _*But I was not wrong. Taking out the head is always the best policy. More powerfully, though. Death could be a lucky shot. All they need is the push to rebel, some sense of safety.*_

_~But Quetesh does pose a danger, personally. So we need to incapacitate her without killing her. What is her one weapon?~_

_*Her voice to command.*_

_~Or the hand device,~ _Sam countered, focusing on the distant figure of the Goa'uld. _~And when it is disabled, we take her down during the distraction. She is only as capable as her guard and her own strength.~_

_*Yes,*_ Jolinar said, heart starting to blaze with the plan. Sam gave her control, let her pace a moment as she thought. She looked down, watched where Quetesh stood on the balcony of the commanders' dwelling, eyeing the proceedings even in the hot sun. She visualized getting close enough, throwing an arrow or firing a knife straight into that hand, and then darting close for the kill. But her visualization included the Jaffa guards, who wouldn't let her that close.

_~We have to get one of them, somehow,~_ said Sam. _~We can't do this alone.~_

_*We don't have time,*_ protested Jolinar. She quickly reminded Sam of all the Jaffa they'd been watching, none of them quite ready to trust unconditionally.

_~I didn't say a real one,~_ Sam said suddenly. She remembered the armory, its location, and the concealing power of Jaffa armor. One of the Doriens could hold during the distraction, ready to let Sam and Jolinar.

Jolinar had a better idea. _*No, this is all about impressions. Including that of Quetesh as leader. We must be the Jaffa. We must be Coron again. Coron was banished in disgrace, assumedly dealt with—until we come back to shame Quetesh personally. In that moment, we will have all ears and all power.*_

Sam realized that she didn't want to think about Coron. That role had been driven into the ground, and she didn't see enough strength to bring it back.

Just then, Drego ran up the hill, glancing behind himself. "Devret," he said. "Is there a plan?"

"Is there news?" Jolinar asked.

He shook his head, brow wrinkled.

"Perhaps," Jolinar answered his first question. She looked at him closely. "Are your people ready to fight for their freedom?"

Drego blinked. "But of course."

"Now?" Jolinar emphasized.

"We may die today, or some of us," Drego said. "We will not let that happen easily."

"Well, it will happen," Jolinar said. Off Drego's slight jerk, she continued swiftly. "The fight. We hope to take out Quetesh personally, which means that all of you must be ready to cooperate to finish the job."

Drego hesitated. "What does that mean?"

"It means you may not attack the Jaffa without provocation at that point," Jolinar said, stepping closer. "If all goes well, they will be joining you, upon our words."

Drego nodded, eyes clearing. "So you will confront Quetesh somehow, and expose her falsehood for all?"

"Spread the word," Jolinar said with a nod.

Drego darted back, and Jolinar breathed out.

_~I don't know if we should have told him that so quickly,~_ Sam said.

_*We need to keep watch, that is all.*_

And so, even though they could not see it externally, Dorieth prepared for a kind of rebellion. Sam and Jolinar watched from their position, hoping Quetesh thought they would still be reeling from her demand. Had Sam and Jolinar not been in this position, they would be—but had they not been banished from their former position, Quetesh would not have been so desperate. The urgency and guilt swelled slowly, as Sam and Jolinar both tried to regulate what was happening.

ooooooo

Daylight faded fast, and Sam found flaws in the plan. Neither she nor Jolinar trusted their aim with a knife, no matter how close they got to the balcony. And the Jaffa wouldn't carry something like a bow. Somehow they had to deal with Quetesh's hand device, and it came down to expediency in the end. Jolinar had brought the small Tok'ra weapon, and that would have to work. Their aim was good, and they trusted that the damage to Quetesh's host's hand would be minimal. It had to be. At least she would be free, if this worked.

The closer things got, the more Sam tried to focus on the host. She'd almost forgotten after all this time what it was like. Her first exposure to the Goa'uld had been through Sha're—now, she'd seen them from the Tok'ra side, seen the vast network. And one host had simply not stuck out.

Jolinar didn't like this any more than Sam, and so as darkness came, they watched Quetesh and thought of what they would do. Once in Jaffa armor, they would sneak slowly close, then at the right moment fire the weapon. In the slight confusion, they would rush up with staff weapon, strike down Quetesh at the knees, and then shoot or knock out the few Jaffa who stood near her. By that point, the others would not dare fire, because they intended to have Quetesh in a headlock, fully at their mercy.

On the other side of things, even with the haste, Quetesh's demand had been more impossible than it might have been. Only the beginnings of a structure were arising on the foundation where the temple had been, and light was almost gone. Any moment now.

Sam finally dropped away and went to the armory. She slipped out of her slave garb, and back into the stiff and heavy Jaffa armor. It brought a heavy taste to her mouth, but she swallowed it. Shaking her hair loose, she used the scarf material as a kind of head tie across her forehead, to cover up where a Jaffa tattoo might be.

Swallowing again, holding herself differently, she slipped back out and up towards the commanders' building where Quetesh still stood.

As she walked, there was a sudden hush of noise. She came behind the house, just in time to hear Quetesh speak.

"And this is your worship of me?"

The words were easy, if loud.

"A shame that you purport it to be true, and not the disgrace to all of your kind that you are."

It was happening, before nightfall. Swearing inwardly, Sam rushed a little more, climbing the stairs on the right side of the building as quietly as she could.

_*We're doing it,*_ Jolinar said, just so that they would acknowledge it.

Sam reached the top. The five Jaffa guarding Quetesh stood close to her as she spoke out over the settlement, all silent now, and clearly unfinished.

But as Quetesh opened her mouth to speak again, Sam decided that she didn't need to hear it. Taking the last step forward, she acted before the Jaffa might take their weapons to do Quetesh's next command. Sliding the weapon onto her fingers, she took a deep breath, inhaled, and then bent to the side to aim just for Quetesh's right hand.

One Jaffa turned slightly at the noise, but Sam fired. There was a flash of light, and the bolt hit Quetesh's hand squarely. She hissed in sharply, bending to clutch her hand. Sam didn't see the rest. The weapon securely rested on her hand, and so she took the staff with two hands, pummeling the first Jaffa with the top, then swinging it under her other hand to hit the next Jaffa under the chin. Another broad swing, another Jaffa fell.

But she didn't have enough time, and the other Jaffa held their weapons ready to kill. Cursing that anyone had to be hurt, she brought up her right hand, and fired two shots with the Tok'ra weapon. The Jaffa fell, the shots in their shoulders.

Quetesh hadn't had time to turn, and only just looked up as Sam was at her throat. The exhilaration of adrenaline pumping through her, and Jolinar's emotion suddenly flaring up, Sam grabbed Quetesh's dark hair with one hand. She gripped near the scalp, yanking back hard, and then whipped out the small knife in her boot to hold at Quetesh's throat.

The Goa'uld seemed almost in shock, and the beginnings of a struggle ended as soon as the knife came out. "Jolinar!" she hissed.

But Sam was looking out. Jaffa had come running, weapons raised but not ready to fire.

"Shoot!" shouted Quetesh harshly.

Sam pushed the knife against her throat harder, cutting off some of her air. "No, that isn't what's going to happen," she hissed.

The Doriens were gathering, tools held as weapons, preparing to do whatever came next. Some stood around, not knowing what was going on. Others glanced to the Jaffa, nervously. But they were all coming close.

_~What do I say?~_ asked Sam, a brief second all she had.

Jolinar only had the emotions, the thoughts. But that was push enough for Sam.

"So here we are," Sam called, her voice carrying across the immediate area as Quetesh's had. "Ready to fight. And look at you." She stared straight at the nearest Jaffa. "Protecting your goddess, no? Of course, because a goddess need protection. A goddess can't do anything for herself, that's why she needs faithful slaves and even more faithful Jaffa."

Sam heard Quetesh's breath hiss out beneath her, but she held tightly on. "That's not what she told you—but it seems that it is the truth. For here I stand, one whom Quetesh was meant to have disgraced for good, and yet I brought down the great goddess without a fight."

The Jaffa didn't move, one way or the other.

"If nothing else, Quetesh lied to you," said Sam. "And if she is so worthy of worship, why do that? But I'm not going to have that argument. If Quetesh is a god, then she is a poor one in reality. She did not protect you, and now she cannot protect herself. So I am going to take her, and her lies, away from you. I am going to take her up to the chappa'ai."

She gripped Quetesh's hair tighter, wrenching her to her feet.

"Coward!" whispered Quetesh through the knife pressed against her windpipe.

"Victor," Sam whispered back in the moment, then looked back to the Jaffa and Doriens below her. "If you think that such a pathetic being, who has never raised a hand to protect you, is deserving of your minds and hearts and hands—then take your stand and stop me. For Quetesh will not. She has no powers more than any one of us, and if I am wrong, then I am willing to be struck down."

Two Jaffa ran forward as Sam started dragging Quetesh back, but Sam held the Goa'uld as a near-perfect shield and didn't hesitate._ ~They respect power, authority—they won't back down so easily, even for this.~_

And with her breath held, she dragged Quetesh off the balcony. Everything was absolutely silent, and almost as still, until she reached the bottom stair. Quetesh stumbled, and Sam held her by her hair, roughly, and pulled her to her feet. Not a Jaffa moved.

She crossed the courtyard, straight for a crowd of Doriens standing in the road to the gate. They started to part, and she saw Inchen. Nodding slightly, she walked through the gap between them, her back now towards the nearest Jaffa. Foolhardy. Reckless. The adrenaline flowing through her veins told her that she was winning and nothing could stop her.

Behind her, Inchen slammed the wooden staff he held into the paving stones. "Quetesh is a false god!" he cried. "And now we are free."

The Jaffa ahead of Sam flinched, reaching for their weapons, as the Doriens started pounding a rhythm where they stood, sending vibrations up the r oad to Sam's feet.

"What are you doing?" Sam demanded loudly as she approached, above the rising noise of the rhythm drumming. "Shoot or not, but if not, then leave the weapons aside. Quetesh has no hold on you. You are free."

Quetesh managed a faint scream, but Sam pressed the knife closer, until a drop of blood appeared. The Jaffa looked faint, but their weapons drooped. That was enough. Doubt was enough. Sam walked straight past them, all but dragging what had once been their god.

_*We will not die,* _Jolinar said, as both Jaffa and Doriens moved in towards the settlement past them, leaving the road open ahead.

Sam realized that her breath was held again, and she let it out, breathing in again sharply. _~No, we won't.~_

And the adrenaline was turning into triumph, and a bitter anger was forming out of their earlier fear. Let the Tok'ra deal with the aftermath and the timing; Quetesh would be dead as soon as they reached the base, and that was all that mattered.

They reached the gate, and Sam let the knife off of Quetesh's throat as she quickly dialed the Tok'ra base.

Quetesh almost struggled, but Sam's hand still gripped her hair tightly. And then, up from behind them, came one unified cry. Punctuated by the pounding rhythm of feet and staves, one long shout of triumph filled the entire valley.

"They are free," Sam said aloud, letting the words grate close to Quetesh's ear. She almost felt joy, but more than ever she just wanted it over.

Then Jolinar took control for the moment, and let her voice ring out metallic. "Simply be glad, Quetesh, that I am not letting their hands on you."

As Sam got control back as the gate whooshed open, she gave one glance back to Dorieth. In the moment, the Doriens were on top of things. That would have to do. There was so much left, but only a couple urgent things.

And her dominant emotion was satisfaction as she brought back Quetesh herself to the Tok'ra base for execution. Oh no, they had not failed on this mission.


	68. Hindsight

**Chapter 67 - Hindsight**

Even though Dixon's words as he looked into Daniel's lab were, "Jackson, problem!", his face gave Daniel no real worry.

"What kind of problem?" Daniel asked, following as Dixon jogged down the hall.

"Not the Colonel's, and only maybe Teal'c's," said Dixon with a tight grin.

"Which is oddly cryptic," Daniel said, frowning. "Mckay and Teal'c?" he guessed incredulously.

Dixon let out a short, barking laugh. "Strangely, yes."

Only a couple minutes more, and Daniel saw the situation himself. There was Mckay, there was Teal'c, standing on one side of the lab. Mckay's arms were crossed in front, and Teal'c's in back, but they stood resolutely. And oddly together. The other side of the lab held Jean, and surprisingly, Sha're. Daniel blinked at that, as well as at Jean's defensive pose, even as Sha're didn't appear more than determined.

The real problem, though, was Hammond. "No, Dr. Miller, you have _not_ explained it well enough," he blustered.

"I told you all that I was responsible for," Jean said, waving with her hand. "It was safe, and it was all made clear."

"Are you saying that it is Dr. Mckay's fault?" Hammond demanded.

"God forbid I do that, sir," Jean said shortly, tossing the briefest of glares at her brother.

Hammond didn't have time to correct her tone, as Mckay broke in. Daniel, standing silent with Dixon at the door, was instantly surprised.

"There is no fault," Mckay said with emphasis. "Teal'c was injected, but he submitted to it, and is not giving any objection now. He's a member of this base just like anyone else."

"He is an ally," Hammond answered. "And genetic modifications of allies are not allowed."

"It's not truly genetic," Mckay tossed back. "Which you would know, if you actually cared about the science that is such a huge part of your base."

"Mckay!" came a snappy voice from behind Daniel's head, and he turned swiftly to see Jack arriving.

"I'm not apologizing," Mckay protested. "All we did was devise a way for anyone to control Goa'uld devices, and we needed a way to test it."

 "On Teal'c?" Jack asked, shaking his head. "What? That makes no sense."

"He volunteered," Mckay said in less excited tone, glaring at them all.

Daniel raised his eyebrow, blinking, as he looked up to Dixon. Dixon shrugged, indicating that nothing was different since he had left to find Daniel.

"The point is that you were all out of line," Hammond said, still firm. He turned to Jean, asking hardly. "Is that treatment permanent?"

Jean appeared to struggle not to shrug. "Possibly."

"It's simple, people," Hammond said, looking at them all for a second. "There will be no, I repeat, no, genetic modifications to any person on this base without my permission. No modifications whatsoever," he added, as Mckay almost opened his mouth.

"But this was approved," Jean protested slightly.

"It's not approved for anything but theoretical research, which is what you were mainly hired for," Hammond declared. Then, as much as the man could, he turned on his heel to leave.

Daniel and Dixon stepped aside.

"What?" Jack asked as an open-ended question, walking into the lab with his arm flung out.

"I am now capable of operating a Goa'uld hand device," said Teal'c, matter-of-fact and maybe a little satisfied as well.

"Oh Jesus," Jack sighed.

Daniel glanced to the right the same moment Jack did.

"What am I going to do with all of you?" Jack demanded. "And Sha're, I thought you were supposed to be sensible."

"It was a perfectly safe procedure," Sha're said simply. "And I did not make the decision, I only provided the material for the modification."

Jack sighed.

"So, d'you figure out what gene makes you all want to play the odds?" Dixon asked in a faux-innocent tone.

Sha're just gave him a look as she crossed the room to join Daniel.

"You know, Jack, why are you always getting on _me_ again?" Daniel asked.

"I don't know, Daniel," Jack said with a sigh, leaving the lab. "Dust never changed anyone's DNA, that I know of." He tossed a slight glare to Teal'c.

"But perhaps dust has not had such a valuable military advantage," Teal'c said.

And when Daniel glanced up, he was certain this time—the Jaffa was smug. Sha're was smiling when he looked to her, and so he just shook his head and put an arm around her waist. Poor Hammond, poor Jack, and possibly even poor Dixon. They'd have to learn eventually how much science they'd placed around them.

ooooooo

Coming down off the adrenaline high was a bitch, as Sam and Jolinar came home with Quetesh in hand. Shan'ak called for the Tok'ra guards immediately, but they only had a quick ring transport down before the questions were asked. Sam felt her limbs start to tremble as Jolinar gave the briefest of answers to everything.

Quetesh was taken from them, sedated, and only then did Sam start to focus on those around her. At first there were only secondary Tok'ra, whom Jolinar ignored. But then she saw her father approach.

"What have you done?" Jacob asked.

"What was necessary for the mission," Jolinar said wearily.

Jacob started a word, then frowned. Reaching out a hand, somewhat gingerly, he put it on Jolinar's arm. "You're pale."

Jolinar frowned too, then sat on the nearest bench. She didn't feel that out of it, but the burn and the buzz of excitement was gone.

"I assume you are not injured?" Selmak then spoke.

Jolinar shook her head shortly. The fade of emotions left her a little confused on what had just happened.

"Then you must explain yourself, quickly, before another of the Council comes," said Selmak firmly. "This is not at all what was expected, Jolinar."

"There was no choice," Jolinar said, looking up to face him. "The planet was at stake, and so we acted on our opportunity."

"And the plan that we so carefully protected?" Selmak asked.

Jolinar could see how much he tried not to show his frustration, or at least upset. "You are not listening."

Selmak sighed. "And so you just changed the plan, because you thought there was no choice."

"Would you have passed up the opportunity?" Jolinar said, almost demanding. "What is better, that a planet of innocents be destroyed, or that one of the most vicious of Goa'uld's be in our hands to meet justice at last?"

Selmak looked to Jolinar slowly, and paused before finally speaking. "Which of her lieutenants do you suppose will take over her empire?"

"I do not know, and I do not care," Jolinar snapped.

Sam wasn't so sure. She was trying to find all the rational thoughts that had been there, before Quetesh declared an ultimatum and shortened their time. _~We did exactly what Quetesh did; made a desperate move and threw a wrench in plans.~_

"With every word," Selmak said aloud, sighing, "you are simply saying that you were too emotionally involved, and should not have been allowed."

"Only if you would have been prepared to accept the loss of an entire planet," said Jolinar. "And only if you think the capture of Quetesh is nothing." She just wanted to focus on that.

"It is not nothing," Selmak acknowledged. "But neither is whatever is out of order in Quetesh's empire, which we will have to deal with if the plan is thoroughly carried out."

Selmak was not wrong. Sam and Jolinar only had a couple more minutes before the rest of the Council currently on base called for their report, and they stood before them. Jolinar kept control, still supporting the decision she and Sam had made. Inside, though, Sam slowly felt her heart sinking, and Jolinar was coming down with her.

All the time Martouf and Lantash had spent gathering information about Quetesh's fleet—it could easily be wiped away as soon as the power vacuum caused a struggle. Maybe the Doriens and the Jaffa would cooperate without their god, but the chance of struggle was much more likely. Sam and Jolinar had only left with Quetesh, leaving no guiding influence at all.

_~We really were driven by emotion, right? I don't remember feeling it, though.~_

_*Not all emotion is easily recognizable,* _Jolinar said in the pause, as the Council spoke among themselves.

But finally, it was over. All the Council said was that Quetesh would be executed, and Sam and Jolinar would be on a short leave. Another Tok'ra representative would be sent to Dorieth, to minimally manage damage control until Sam and Jolinar were in any shape to return. Until then, Sam and Jolinar's duty would be to take care of Quetesh's host, did she recover fully.

Jolinar paused. "I would know the reason for this, not that I object."

"Your history with Sha're is considered an asset," said Ren'al coolly. "That is all."

Jolinar nodded, and took her leave. They stood for a few minutes in the hall.

_~Quetesh is really gone, or will be in a few minutes,~ _Sam said. _~Why doesn't that feel better?~_

Jolinar sighed. _*Her absence is just that, absence. Her actions have not been reversed.*_

_~But they won't be repeated,~ _Sam said, to herself. _~Jolinar, I'm just tired.~_

_*A bath?*_

_~That would be great.~_

ooooooo

"So, apparently there was a lot you didn't tell me," Daniel said, as he walked with Sha're.

"There is always a lot I do not tell you," answered Sha're.

Daniel half-smiled. "Yes, but genetic research?"

Sha're shrugged. "It was not as much as it sounds."

They walked on a few steps more, when suddenly Sha're stopped. Daniel almost stumbled, his arm still resting around her waist. "What?" he asked.

"You are right about one thing," Sha're admitted, frowning. "I have not told you perhaps all that you should know."

"Oh?" Daniel turned to face her, anticipating something he knew not what.

"I may have mentioned it once in passing, but only Doctor Frasier paid attention, I think," said Sha're. "Shifu is, as you put it, genetically modified."

Daniel's mouth sagged a little. "What?" Surely, he'd remember this, even in passing.

"As the child of two hosts, he was born with the Goa'uld genetic memory," Sha're said, looking him the eye with a fragile gaze. "It would have infected his mind, and even in his infancy it caused nightmares. The Tok'ra had a way to, what is the word, inhibit it. It was done some time ago, and should not ever affect our child again."

"I—I don't remember that at all," Daniel said, brow creasing. He didn't know what to do with his arms, so instead they just hung there.

"I thought you might not," said Sha're, slightly wincing. "But I did not think it something you needed to think about, when there is nothing to be done."

"Nothing to be done?" Daniel asked, stumbling a little over the words. "But he could have the memories of a Goa'uld."

"That is just it, Daniel," Sha're said, stepping closer and putting out her hand before he could fidget. "If the Tok'ra were correct, then he will remember nothing. That part of him is suppressed. But we cannot know one way or another without the help of the Tok'ra."

Those last words fell in a slightly lower tone, and Sha're scarcely held his gaze.

Daniel breathed out. "I see." And Sha're couldn't contact the Tok'ra any more than the SGC could. There was only the slightest, remotest chance that a future contact would come from their end. From Sam. Daniel had viewed it as such a far out possibility, it was almost out of his mind altogether.

"Since this argument about genetics came up today, it reminded me that you should at least be aware," Sha're said, breathing out and loosening a little. "But really, Dan'yel, Shifu is fine."

Daniel smiled, bringing up his other hand to squeeze hers. "I'm sure he is."

They continued walking to wherever they were going—Daniel didn't know, as Sha're was leading. Just when he was almost viewing his family as normal, given how Sha're was integrating, life reminded him how extraordinary he was. And yet, he felt no wonder. Only a renewed desire to have Shifu in his arms more often, to make continually sure that he was indeed fine. Poor little guy. Daniel vowed to himself that his son would not have such a rough life as either of his parents, if at all possible.

ooooooo

The warm bath felt sublime, and as Sam let the heat nearly scorch her skin, she remembered that she had once missed the pulsing beat of the shower. No longer. She came to the surface, breathing in the scented steam, and felt Jolinar relaxing in the back of her mind. The mental stress that they hadn't acknowledged on Dorieth started melting away.

_~Has it gotten that bad, that we don't even know when we're upset?~ _Sam asked.

Jolinar didn't think so. She hesitated, but reminded Sam of the extent of the trauma of only recently. They were only relatively back on top of things, and Sam had to accept that.

Sam closed her eyes and sighed. It was so much easier to forget.

_*No, it is not,* _Jolinar said. _*Do not address it, maybe, but do not try to forget.*_

Sam didn't know what to think of that, whether good advice or bad or both, and whether any of it was hypocrisy. It didn't matter. They'd make it, however they would, and it'd have to be somewhat on the fly.

She dried off and ran her fingers through her damp hair, finally twisting it in a small knot at the back of her head. Slipping into a soft brown wrap that was almost leathery, she felt at home again. And now, with a sigh, there was unfinished business.

It made sense to go to the infirmary this time. Jolinar had never seen a Goa'uld symbiote executed, so she had no idea where that was. But by this time, Quetesh would be gone, and Sam and Jolinar were charged with taking care of the host.

They walked past the first few areas before seeing Larys standing, looking at a small device in his hand.

"Samantha, Jolinar," he acknowledged in a low voice.

"How did it go?" Sam asked, sure he'd know what she meant.

Larys' face tightened for a moment, but he nodded as if to himself. "Well enough. As soon as Quetesh came to grips with the fact that you beat her...she did not make her end easy. And she was more adept at it than Amonet."

"So...?" Sam asked, feeling a bit of concern now.

Larys beckoned her to step forward around the wall. Even Jolinar hadn't realized how much it would jar to see Quetesh and yet not Quetesh. The first sight of that dark hair, and Sam flinched, then had to shake her head as unnoticeably as possible. Her heart had skipped a beat, though, even though she knew, she knew in her head, that there was absolutely no reason anymore. Quetesh was dead. That wasn't Quetesh. Names were so problematic with symbiotes. That wasn't Quetesh.

"I do not think Quetesh did permanent damage," Larys said, as if he had not seen Sam's reaction. "Physically, I believe she is already on the mend. She responded well to our treatments, and I think she was only a host for a couple decades."

Sam flinched again, but this time it was the 'only', and suddenly her concern was a sharp pang of sympathy. Taking a breath, trying to get past her own issues, she stepped forward a little. Beneath that same dark hair lay the face that should have reminded Sam of Quetesh. But this woman—was not the same. Sam breathed out. Not just that she was clearly unblended, but her face just wasn't the same. No sharp glint of eyes, no tenseness of the mouth, no firm jaw. Her face was weary, eyes shut, but though part of it was her sleeping, Sam had a feeling that enough would be different once she woke. Then she realized that Larys seemed to be waiting, and she looked back to him.

"She will not wake," Larys said quietly. "It is not that she is unconscious. Judging from the readings, she is only barely even asleep. But she is not responding to anything that we do."

The pang dug in harder. "You think Quetesh did something to her mind?" Sam asked, her voice vulnerable.

"It is not impossible," Larys said, and Sam saw pain behind his eyes, but it was a long pain from more than just this day. "But more, perhaps, she may be doing it to herself. It is not that she cannot wake, I think, but that she does not want to."

_*She may be frightened,* _Jolinar said remembering all they had done. _*We unwittingly abused her, while Quetesh was still alive. She may think that we will not know the difference between them.*_

Sam thought of her own waking with Jolinar. The opposite, perhaps, but that mental fear—and who knew what else—was going on in this woman's mind after almost most of her life was taken.

"If you don't mind, I think Jolinar and I will stay here tonight, just in case," Sam said quietly.

Larys turned back to his device after a nod, leaving after a couple minutes.

Sam breathed out, and sat on the bed opposite to Quetesh's host. The woman was curled in a half fetal position, the hand that Sam had shot bandaged and clasped tightly to her chest. No wonder Larys assumed that it was her choice not to move or wake. Behind the thin eyelids, Sam could see her eyes moving back and forth, perhaps in dreaming. The more she watched, the more she saw little twitches, each one more reassuring than the last. Quetesh did not twitch, Quetesh glided and smoothed with every gesture. Had. Not anymore.

_~It'll be okay,~_ Sam told herself, lying down on her side facing the other bed, preparing to sleep if the woman did not wake up. _~Ren'al was right. There may be a lot of emotions going on, but that will help here.~_

_*If there is any help at all,* _Jolinar said, the slight hint of fear and despair creeping in.

_~It's been a long day for her, don't give up hope yet,~ _Sam answered, but sleepily now that she was lying still. _~Long years. God, I hope she's not afraid of us.~_

Jolinar had no answer, just sleepiness. Another thing she wouldn't admit out loud, but they were not quite ready for Dorieth yet. Acknowledged or not, today's stress had drained them. Sleep came easily, and would stay for a while.

ooooooo

Sam woke late next morning, and Jolinar was already awake. Waking in her clothes and not under blankets didn't feel like home—but the clean smell and the way the light refracted off the crystals was instantly reassuring. Jolinar was sitting up, and had smoothed out both her dress and her hair. The latter had dried slightly oddly during the night, but Jolinar had it tied out of the way.

And, there was nothing different on the other side of the infirmary room. The woman who had once looked exactly like Quetesh still lay sleeping, her brow slightly more furrowed, her hand more relaxed, but otherwise just the same. Around her, the soft glow of Tok'ra technology kept watch over her health.

Sam reached around for Jolinar's emotions, finding them easily. Nothing much at first. Sympathy, regret, worry. But there was more. She worried for Martouf and Lantash, not only what they would do, but what they might think. It was less a concern than this freed host that they must care for, but it weighed on Jolinar. The more time passed, the more Jolinar felt that she had made another rash mistake. Sam pushed in on this, reminding her that it was very much a joint decision, and therefore a joint mistake if it should turn out that way. But it didn't need to.

And then there was a kind of sympathy, accompanied with emptiness; Jolinar couldn't empathize with the feelings of a host. Not just because of her past, but because of her very nature. She didn't quite feel guilty, not yet, but there was some kind of emotion connected with her lack of deep sympathy, and Sam felt it but couldn't quite identify.

_*Is there anything to do?* _Jolinar wondered more specifically.

Sam only had her instinct. _~I think she'd rather wake up to someone than alone. Waking up alone is—under normal circumstances only sort of acceptable. It's something I'd never miss.~_

Quietly, she took control and went to find a chair. As she set it by the former-host's side, she noticed a kind of pallor to the woman's skin. Sam rested a finger on the woman's arm, and found it chill. She grabbed a nearby blanket, and lay it gently over the woman, then sat down. Through all of it, the woman didn't move beyond near-invisible twitches in both face and arms.

_~Maybe there's some nervous problems like we had,~ _Sam wondered.

Then, just as she settled fully into the chair, there was movement. The woman's hand slipped from where it rested at her collarbone, and then jerked outward a little, as if reaching for something before realizing that there was nothing to reach for. For a moment her hand hovered, then lay down, hanging half off the bed, looking slightly desperate.

Sam knew things were delicate, but she thought she recognized the reach for safety or comfort. Softly, she put up her hand and rested it on the woman's. Not clasping, not lying heavily, just barely touching. "You're safe," she murmured just under her breath.

The woman didn't move or wake, but Sam thought her hand at least relaxed.

Sam closed her eyes after a moment, trying to empty her mind. It was starting to wind tight, her thoughts tangling, and she didn't want that. Jolinar sat back, watching in a way as she saw Sam consciously work on what was in her own mind. Jolinar hadn't done something like this, so Sam had no idea what it looked or felt like.

There was no way to tell how much time passed, when suddenly there was movement again. Sam felt the hand beneath hers jerk beyond just a twitch, and her eyes flew open. The woman's eyes were still closed, but her face had tensed with something that almost never happened with sleep, and her eyes flitted rapidly beneath her lids.

"It's all right," Sam half-whispered.

Sam could see the veins pulsing frantically in the woman's neck, but then her eyes slowly fluttered half open. Sam breathed in, seeing an empty grey that was nothing like the hard glint from before. Not empty though—not quite.

The woman's face was contorted in something like a frown, her nostrils flaring with how fast paced her breathing was. Her eyes darted from Sam to the walls around, and then suddenly she pulled her hand back to her chest.

"Who?" she whispered, the word coming out cracked and neither curious nor worried but something harsher. Flatter.

Sam's sympathy panged. "My name is Samantha," she said quietly. "I'm here to help you."

There was almost a full minute of silence. The woman didn't move, her breathing still rapid, her body still tensed, her eyes still darting before finally resting on Sam's.

"I am not Quetesh," she finally said, voice barely breaking a whisper.

And Sam knew she wasn't just telling Sam, she was telling herself. It hurt in a familiar way, and now this was no longer just "unfinished business".

"You're safe," she said softly again. The woman didn't relax, but she didn't close her eyes either. And Sam saw the pain in them. But pain meant something to feel, and Sam knew that soon she'd be grateful for it. Just not now.

"You're safe," she said again.


	69. Unaccustomed

**Chapter 68 - Unaccustomed**

Sam had never been a mother. She had never been a big sister. And she hadn't known very often even what being a leader felt like. Only now, all she saw before her was a broken life, and there seemed to be an urge within to gather it to her and make it all better.

Quetesh's host did not speak again for many minutes, when she looked away from Sam and asked in that hoarse whisper: "Where is this?"

"You're on the Tok'ra home world, in a medical facility," Sam said. "You're free here."

The woman swallowed, and closed her eyes for a second. Sam wished her heartbeat would slow and that she would stop this apparent still panic, but a part of her understood. And Jolinar could only watch, transfixed but not wanting to get involved—it was a hurt she didn't want to bring up.

"What is your name?" Sam finally asked, taking her first dangerous step.

The woman didn't open her eyes, and her breathing hastened again. "I forgot," she whispered, the catch in her voice almost shattering it. A teardrop gathered at the corner of one tightly shut eye.

"It's okay," Sam said, as soothingly as she could, and she put her hand gently on the woman's arm. She felt almost fevered now, compared to the chill of last night. Sam wondered if her health might have something to do with the panic, but couldn't know for sure, and didn't think the woman was ready to see Larys.

"Vala," whispered the woman then.

Sam knew that word wasn't Goa'uld.

"Vala Mal Doran," the woman whispered, and she choked on the last word. Her arm twisted beneath Sam's hand, but only to reach up and clasp her hand, gripping so tight that it hurt.

"Vala," Sam said back, and even as she felt like her hand might break, a part of her relaxed.

"You are Tok'ra?" Vala asked, not quite opening her eyes, her words still fragile.

"Yes," Sam said simply.

Vala gave the tiniest of tight nods, and then her grip on Sam's hand loosened. A few moments of silence later, and Sam saw Vala relax slowly, as if she was falling asleep again. Her breathing slowed, and she let her hand still holding Sam's rest loosely on the infirmary bed.

_~I think this is good,~ _Sam said, finally breathing out.

And then Vala did fall asleep, and finally let her hold on Sam's hand relax. Jolinar felt like they should stay there, and Sam almost did, but a concern hit her and she quietly left Vala's side.

First, she spoke to Larys. He nodded, said that all indications said that Vala was slightly unwell, but nothing dangerous. He'd leave the rest to Sam, as the Council wished. But he mentioned, for Sam's sake as well as Jolinar's, that the Tok'ra had not had much success with the rescue of hosts. Many turned inward in their panic, often afterwards becoming violent against their "Goa'uld captors". Most had to be set free quickly to recover on their own, and even though some did so and came back to apologize for their quick judgment, it had never gone well in the beginning.

Then, Sam went to Selmak. Jolinar had never been glad that Selmak was on the Tok'ra High Council, but Sam found herself often appreciating it. Now, she had to ask what was going on with Dorieth. Only just last night, an operative had been sent with full authority to assess the situation. And this morning, the shortest of messages had been sent back—"Disaster averted."

Sam and Jolinar might find a thousand meanings in those words, but the only important one was that they were off the hook. At least a little, and at least for now. Selmak seemed to see this interpretation, for he said no more.

Sam couldn't help but think of the details, but not for long. She had another mission, on this base, and "her people" would have to wait for that. _~It's getting personal again, isn't it?~ _she asked suddenly, as she was once again sitting by Vala's side as she slept.

Jolinar could only agree. And looking on Vala's sleeping face, neither of them could see any other way. They had been doomed to be involved with Quetesh. At first it had been Sha're, and her people. But along the way, even before their capture, Jolinar had found the repressed hatred from so many decades ago. Now, Quetesh herself was gone, but the traces of her lay in this woman they were charged with. And as much as Sam hoped to help Vala, she knew that a part of her hoped that facing and dealing with Vala would help heal Sam.

Vala wasn't going to face them yet, though. When Sam returned, the woman was sitting up in the bed. She leaned against the crystal tunnel walls, knees close to her chest, head resting tipped to the side on her knees. In the loose hospital garments, she looked small, even though Sam knew she was at least Sam's height.

Sam stood for a moment outside the room. _~Now what?~ _she asked herself, feeling momentarily helpless.

Jolinar had nothing at all.

So Sam walked in the room and sat down on the second bed again.

Then, she was almost surprised to see Vala look up with painful eyes. Sam saw her hand clench, and was that a glint of metal in it? "Where is Quetesh?" Vala asked, voice wavering but eyes steady on Sam.

"Dead," Sam answered quietly.

Vala breathed out, trembling.

"Is that—" Sam started, wondering if it was the right time. Vala had looked back down at her knees, but Sam could tell that she was listening. "Is that all the worries you still have?"

"Am I to be starved?"

With all the tension, the slight demand, or possibly sarcasm, in this question made Sam swallow a laugh. It wasn't funny—she could hear Vala's insecurity under the calm she put in those words. But it was something different. "What do you want to eat?" she asked simply.

"I never got to choose," Vala whispered without looking at Sam.

Sam felt a sharp jab of pain from Jolinar, and the painful laugh she'd swallowed tasted bitter. "I'll see what we have," she said quietly, then stood up to leave the room. She'd bring back as much of a buffet as she could.

ooooooo

Daniel sat in his lab, Shifu in his arms, rocking back and forth in his desk chair. His eyes might close at any moment, but then he'd stop rocking and Shifu would wake and scream. Maybe. There was always the possibility that this time he was sleeping for good, but Daniel would rather push his own limits than test his son's for now.

But in the darkness on the base, footsteps broke the silence.

"Late night?"

Daniel managed not to bolt out of his chair, but that was more due to exhaustion than self-control. His eyes snapped fully open, and there was Jack, of all people.

"Good god, you're here late," Daniel whispered.

"Briefing with Hammond," Jack said, grimacing. "Heard your little guy screaming on my way out, but never made it—that was a few hours ago."

He didn't explain; with Daniel, he didn't need to. In his weariness, Daniel didn't know if it was the right time to bring up Charlie or not. Maybe Jack wanted it, being that blunt with his hints? Or was that a blunt hint? Daniel was too tired—though if Jack wasn't over Charlie, he wouldn't be talking to Sara again.

"Why so long with Hammond?" Daniel asked, the safe question.

"Good question, Daniel," said Jack, a little lightly for someone still at work at 2am. He walked in, sighing, and sat in Daniel's other chair.

Daniel glanced down to Shifu, who still looked asleep, then focused back on Jack. He couldn't see quite clearly this late, even squinting and blinking not clearing away all the bleariness.

"You remember what this place used to be like?" Jack asked pointedly, almost of a sudden.

"The first mission?" Daniel clarified. He breathed out slowly. "Barely. Why?"

Jack shrugs, but Daniel waited for the words to come. If they came. Jack had already said more than usual.

"Hammond's getting a lot of pressure," Jack finally admitted.

"About caution?" Daniel asked.

Jack shakes his head. "Everything. All the important—" he waves his hand for a second, before finding the word "—breakthroughs. They're all about science, and we're still on the Air Force payroll. As we should be, with the Goa'uld still out there."

"But we need science to fight the Goa'uld," Daniel protested with a frown.

"Maybe," said Jack cautiously. "I don't know about you, Daniel, but I don't understand half the importance all the egg-heads put on things. And I do understand that, still, if a Goa'uld came to attack Earth, all we've really got is nukes."

It took a few seconds longer than usual for Daniel to think about those words.

"Until yesterday."

Daniel's eyes were starting to droop again, involuntarily. He wasn't rocking as hard, and Shifu was still asleep.

"He's right," muttered Jack. "What the hell happened here? Some kind of lab, testing on soldiers. Aliens doing god-knows-what to us. And the Goa'uld?"

"May not all be bad," Daniel murmured.

"It's late, Daniel," Jack said after another second, and there was an edge back in his voice that Daniel hadn't noticed leaving during the conversation. "I'm going home."

"Jack," said Daniel, lifting his head as Jack paused by the door. "I don't really know why you got into this place, but I know why I did. And things aren't the same, maybe; but this place is my home now."

"That's good for you," said Jack, and his tone was flat, not sarcastic.

Jack left and Daniel's head drooped forward on his chest, his arms relaxing against the arms of his chair. Then, a wriggle, and a half-cry, and his head came back up and he started to rock again. Shifu wouldn't sleep.

Silence around him, Daniel thought he knew what Jack meant. This place wasn't just a secret outpost where a hidden doorway was kept. This was the CDC, advanced R&D, a test lab, a house, and some weird military black ops base. With aliens. Daniel didn't want to think about how that looked to the people at the Pentagon...it was weird enough from his end.

It had been Shifu's last protest, and the next thing Daniel knew, Sha're was in his office and Shifu was crying for food because it was 4am now. And finally, finally, Daniel slept.

ooooooo

Vala's fingers trembled as she reached for the food on the tray Sam brought. She didn't look up at Sam the entire time, just slowly chewed and swallowed, almost still curled up. But when she finally looked to Sam, there was more suspicion than fear in her tension.

"Are you my jailer or my nursemaid?" she asked after the food was nearly all gone, and Sam wondered at her appetite.

"Not jailer," Sam said, with what she hoped was warmth. "But Vala—I don't know what else I'm doing here."

"So maybe you aren't a Goa'uld after all," Vala said, almost under her breath.

Sam grimaced slightly. "No. That, I'm not."

"Then why do you, all of you, have them inside?" Vala asked, voice suddenly rising in both pitch and volume.

_~She's not ready for this,~ _Sam thought, looking at the emotions in Vala's eyes. "You knew who the Tok'ra were," she said. "If you know that, you know what we are."

"And why am I here?" Vala asked, looking piercingly at Sam. "What is your plan?"

"What is yours?" Sam asked back.

The panicked bristles that had just started to show on Vala disappeared, and it was if she had shrunk. "Run. Hide. Alone." The cracks were audible in her voice again.

"She can't come back," Sam said quietly.

"I cannot remember who I am, but I remember that there are more of them," Vala said rigidly.

Jolinar had almost disappeared in the back of Sam's mind, but then she spoke. _*Samantha, I cannot, cannot, face this.*_

_~I can't not,~ _Sam answered, doubly concerned at once.

_*Just let me rest, please. I will disappear.*_

Sam's brow creased, and she felt pain in her mind, maybe even her heart. _~What am I going to do then?~_

_*Help her. I can't.*_

Sam barely held back a protest that she could hardly do anything either.

"What is your name?"

Sam lost track of Jolinar, but Vala was there and was asking a question. "Samantha," she answered.

"And you don't know who I am?" Vala asked next. She was sitting up, arms wrapped around her knees, staring with more security from behind the wall they made.

"No," Sam admitted, and decided that Jolinar would wait.

"Then there is nothing for me here," Vala said, just above a whisper.

"What do you want?" Sam asked, looking her straight in the eye.

"I don't know," Vala said. "Not this." Her eyes lost their steady gaze for a moment, flitting around the room in a second before coming back to meet Sam's.

Sam looked at her closely, saw the lines just barely at the corners of her eyes and mouth. She couldn't have been younger than Sam by more than a few years, if Sam could read her physical age correctly. But Sam didn't see that in her eyes; she didn't even see the younger Sha're, full of vitality and emotion. Sam could swear she saw someone smaller, someone whose walls had been broken down so far that she didn't have much left to wall up.

She didn't know how many memories Vala had, either of her life before or of what Quetesh had to have left in her mind. When had she been taken? Who had she left behind? Questions too sensitive for now, but Sam needed to guess. After decades, as Larys said, Vala would have to know that no one was coming for her. The Tok'ra had saved her, but they had saved the idea of her, and knew no more who she was than the Goa'uld who thought of her as no more than a body.

Vala had no one to hope for. Perhaps her family had been killed; perhaps they had just abandoned her as lost. She didn't remember them, maybe; and maybe that was because they didn't exist. Vala wasn't Sha're, and she didn't know how to embrace this gift of freedom.

So, what, she would run? Fear it? It was a choice that Sam couldn't let her make. Sam didn't know what to make of Vala, but when she looked up, she didn't see a woman who would break down and disappear into nothingness. Vala had reached for Sam's hand, asked her questions, with a fear that overwhelmed her senses but was colored by an underlying will. Will to live, Sam thought, if not to fight.

"I don't know what you think," Sam said, resisting the urge to start of with 'look', "but I do know one thing from experience." Her gaze met Vala's, harder than before. "Don't jump on impulses just because you don't know what to do." She felt grateful that she'd learned this lesson so long ago that the memories of Jonas lay lightly buried. And with Jolinar somewhere back there, no one was asking questions yet.

"My escape is blocked then," said Vala slowly, eyes darting from Sam's for a moment only to come back.

"Try looking for it on this planet first," Sam said softly. Then, because Vala wasn't shrinking away, she put out her hand. "Would you like to find some place more private?"

Sam saw Vala's hands twist around themselves, unsteady for a moment. She looked down at Sam's outstretched hand, and then, jerkily, she let one knee drop from where it guarded her chest and hang off the edge of the bed. A few seconds later, she stretched forth a quivering hand, and Sam took the last step forward to clasp it gently.

Sam was holding her breath as Vala slid from the bed, only to have her knee buckle as her foot touched the floor. Vala gave out a low cry as she slipped a little, but Sam stepped to her, an arm round her waist as she fell. Vala froze, gasping sharply, but Sam didn't move, just held her upright.

Then, a choking sob coming forth, Vala collapsed to her knees, Sam gently coming with her. "It's okay," Sam murmured, as the woman seemed to lose control over the tension, almost falling against Sam. She put a hand to Vala's back and held her, as Vala shook with another sob.

Her hand gently stroking Vala's back, Sam felt her face twist with worry, but inside all she felt was that this meant something. Not what she had expected, but all to the same purpose. _Don't run away_, she said to Vala in her head.

This wasn't breaking apart; this was the first step to fitting the pieces back together. And Sam figured that she had time for that.

Vala ran out of sobs too quickly, but her silent dry shaking was just as unstable. _~Jolinar?~ _Sam whispered in her head. _~I don't know why exactly this hurts you, though I can guess. But it's all right. I think we're almost past fear.~_

She didn't feel an articulate answer, but it seemed for the rest of the day like maybe Jolinar was simply silent, not hiding.

Vala had decided to take her chances with Sam, though as little as possible. Once she seemed calm, worn rather than exhausted from being on edge, Sam started asking questions. Do you hurt anywhere? Do you feel sick? Can you walk? At this point, discussing other people or fresh clothing seemed like potential triggers for fear, so Sam didn't. And she hoped Larys trusted Vala in her charge, as Sam took her from the infirmary and to a small lab that had been empty every time Sam and Jolinar passed it.

"If you want to sit here for a moment," Sam said, "I'll be back in a few minutes."

Vala nodded, and leaned back in the chair that Sam had brought her to.

Sam had good timing. No sooner had she returned up to the main level of the Tok'ra complex when she saw the rings come down from the surface, and there was Shan'ak, a small device in his hand. "From Dorieth," he said, on seeing her.

"Already?" she asked, but followed him as he delivered it to the nearest Councilmember.

Per'sus nodded after looking at it. "You understand that this is no longer truly your mission," he said, voice low as he looked to her.

She nodded once.

"But I understand your continued interest," he said, glancing up once he looked back down at the device. "The Jaffa on Dorieth have been imprisoned by its human inhabitants."

Sam had partly forgotten things, and stood startled. "Really?"

"But not for execution," said Per'sus, a slight eyebrow raise changing the neutrality of his face. "It seems that there is some kind of negotiation for their cooperation going on."

Sam stood, pondering, but she had little to think on without Jolinar immediately there. By now, she was certain that her symbiote was sleeping.

Per'sus exhaled and lowered the hand which held the device. "Indeed, our operative there is returning; he had another mission assigned before this, and Dorieth does not need urgent attention. Its people have taken control, and are guarding themselves against any further attack. While we may contact them in the future, our focus must return to the important matter."

"Have you heard from Lantash?" Sam asked.

"Not since you last knew of it," Per'sus said.

And that was the end of the conversation. Sam returned to Vala, who was tracing the tunnel walls with nothing else to do. Sam noticed the limpness of her hair and asked, "Do you want to clean up?"

Vala looked at her like it was an alien suggestion, and after who knows how long of being entirely unable to affect her own body, Sam realized that for her it was. But Sam left her alone after leading her to the Tok'ra baths, and afterward Vala asked her, "Do you have nothing to do?"

Feeling that maybe Vala should be thinking quietly, Sam nodded, and found one of the Tok'ra computer devices to look at the latest information in more detail. The hours passed, and Sam realized with awkwardness that it was no wonder other hosts bolted, with nothing to occupy them. But by the time evening had arrived, Vala was curled in a chair and sound asleep. Hair curling more naturally soft and shapeless around her face, she wore simple clothes that she had picked out, surprising Sam as she had done so with how ready she was.

Sam watched Vala sleep a few minutes, wondering if she really wanted even only one more day of this. But then Jolinar was back in her head, and everything else faded. _~Where have you been?~ _she asked, and it came out strong.

_*Right here,* _Jolinar answered simply.

Sam had had plenty of time to think about what she'd say. _~Is it that she looks like Quetesh?~_

_*No,* _Jolinar said shortly. _*She sounds like Elista.*_

Sam felt Jolinar's guilt burn, and then nothing. _~But things changed. It wasn't always like this.~_

_*When you have violated someone's identity, stolen it from them, and then you have realized it—do you think it matters?*_

_~No,~ _Sam said.

_*But,* _Jolinar said, and some of the left her mind. _*I was cowardly. I do not know when we will have another mission, but that is not the only reason that I cannot hide while you do this.*_

_~Thank you,~ _Sam said warmly.

When she looked back to Vala, this time Jolinar was there with her. _*If you have gotten her this far, I believe she will need support,* _Jolinar offered.

Sam smiled to herself. This felt better.

The next days were an exercise in awkwardness and hesitation. Vala didn't speak except in rare moments, just followed wherever Sam went. Jolinar seemed to understand a little, but Sam couldn't comprehend it. She thought about speaking to Cordesh's former host Lensin, but on speaking to Larys found that Lensin had gone offworld permanently.

So instead, Sam stuck to things that didn't require talking or introspection. Reyfa made no comment as Vala sat quietly in the corner and watched them talk. Sam asked about the modifications that she and Anise had worked on, since there was no way she was taking Vala near Anise, and then was thoroughly distracted by hearing about the armbands that were currently puzzling Anise. A demonstration of Reyfa's tunnel crystal project finished off the first visit, and Sam wondered if Vala had understood even half the words. It was gratifying when Jolinar said that she hardly knew that much, not because Sam liked to feel smarter, but just because Jolinar was at enough ease to make that comment.

Next Sam found the library that had captivated Sha're during her time. Selmak and Jacob were there too, and they also did not comment on Vala's presence. Sam wondered for a moment if being ignored was the best policy for her, but things were too fragile to try anything else. She hadn't gotten a chance to truly read in forever, and cautiously glanced over to Vala after realizing they'd been there an hour. Vala looked like she could read, and could manage the electronic screens of data—but all Sam saw was a frown of concentration, and a vague scanning of pages.

More and more, Sam realized just how little leisure time the Tok'ra were used to. Especially without being able to have conversations, things started to drag. Which started to frustrate Sam, as she over-thought every move here, and kept finding her mind drawn back to Dorieth to wonder about its future and where they'd messed up in the beginning.

Two days into it, though, as Sam guided Vala back to the infirmary, the woman took a deep breath and turned to her. "I think," she said slowly, almost biting her lip, "that I do not like the food here. I think I remember better."

Sam laughed softly. "That's a very good memory, then."

Vala's eyes had a moment of warmth before she went to her infirmary bed and Sam and Jolinar went to theirs. But their last thoughts were of something beyond this base. Sam had thought that dealing with Vala would help, but things weren't moving fast enough, and somewhere out there was movement in plenty. Jolinar was no less sure what exactly would fill the need, but they both sighed and wondered. Were they really feeling alive?


	70. Paradigm Shift

**Chapter 69 - Paradigm Shift**

Two days later, and Jolinar itched for something else to do. Even Sam was starting to feel trapped. Vala had progressed well, recalling a few more things that seemed to bring a hint of stability to her. It had also helped that Sam and Jolinar figured out that, rather than being childish short attention span, Vala was very adept at turning away or changing the subject to guard her still-unhealed self. When she talked. More often it was guarding herself from looks. Thankfully few of the Tok'ra paid much heed to anything but their work.

Vala had stuck to Sam and Jolinar almost like a burr, though, even after Sam finally got her speaking to her father. Selmak had wisely stayed out of the way for the sake of Vala's fragile sense of safety, but Jacob had been interested without poking and prodding at her. Vala had shown an intense kind of interest in this, as with everything Sam did around her. Sam couldn't be as interested.

She felt like this was a road she wasn't needed on. She felt like maybe Vala could do it without her. And she felt like she needed Jolinar closer to her than this, and Jolinar just couldn't connect with Vala; it wasn't her fault, or Vala's, or Sam's. But Jolinar agreed with Sam that something more needed to happen.

And then they heard the news, and were swiftly up to the main Tok'ra level, leaving Vala reluctantly half-playing checkers with Jacob. Sam could have wanted any news, but this was better than any.

Lantash was coming down from the Council chamber when they approached, briefing already given. His face lit on seeing them and his step quickened—unsurprising considering that their last meeting was almost three weeks before, when they were only five steps away from death. Jolinar smiled and pulled him quickly into an embrace upon reaching him, feeling a warmth that she'd forgotten she could always rely on.

"Something wrong?" he asked, surprised at the impulse.

"I missed your presence," Jolinar explained simply.

He nodded, then said softly, "You look well," looking down at her face with a smile.

Jolinar leaned up for a kiss, not long, but it was an intimate touch and the healing felt very real. Sam couldn't help but think how little human contact they had received recently—mostly giving it, since Jacob hugged his daughter less now than before.

The brightness in Lantash's look faded a moment as he brought up a finger to trace the scar on her face.

Jolinar put up her hand over his. "Never mind this; one of but a few reminders."

"I should be thankful it is all Quetesh will leave behind now," he said, still holding her gently close to him, hand resting at the small of her back.

"Have you eaten?" Jolinar asked.

When he shook his head, she turned in his embrace towards the corridor. He rested his arm around her shoulders as they started to walk. Sam was only a little surprised to feel how quickly she and Jolinar were at a kind of peace, despite their need for something to distract their mind more fully.

"What news did you bring back?" Jolinar asked eagerly.

Lantash sighed, but not heavily. "Things are moving at a great pace. Which seems to be your gift, my love, though it is not a disaster."

Jolinar merely nodded, and for all that Sam had been grateful for the speed, she could see how a habit of that would be killing.

"Quetesh simply disappeared, from our position," he continued explaining. "I, Martouf, and the other Goa'uld under Quetesh's rule. Her visit to Dorieth was not on impulse, but the evidence leading towards it as a possibility were couched in less obvious terms. In hindsight, we could see her intent, though. And with no word, and with the Dorieth gate refusing to open—there was the immediate thought that she would not return."

_~Is that normal?~ _Sam asked.

_*The Goa'uld live for any opportunity to seize control, if it is at all within their power. Though, this is a little hasty.*_

"What do they plan?" Jolinar asked out loud.

"Nothing original," Lantash said. "Quetesh's plan involved an attack on Ba'al's fleet, as her main rival. Now, her lieutenants are going after a similar strike. There is very much the air that they are postponing the final struggle for power until that battle is over, and there is a secure fleet to war over."

Jolinar and Sam said nothing, thinking too much over all the options. The entire goal of the Tok'ra was about not taking out single Goa'uld because of the power-vacuum result, but this was not the same. It had only been a few days, and with no defined leader no immediate danger yet.

"Will you look for a way to take power and keep everything in balance?" Jolinar asked, even as her brow was still furrowed with thought.

Lantash snorted, and then Martouf took control. "Nothing is decided yet," he said with a wry smile, looking to her. "But I believe the Council wishes, having gone this far, that Quetesh's empire be fully disabled as said the original plan."

Jolinar nodded, and as Sam thought about it, she realized that they couldn't have been happy with any other decision. Some Abydonians were still in the fleet, on the flagship at least. "So then," Jolinar asked, "what for now?"

"We heard of all that is on Dorieth," Martouf said. "Including the situation with the Jaffa. Your tactics worked to some extent, and without Quetesh, the Jaffa on that world are allying with the freed slaves."

Jolinar lifted her eyebrow, and Sam's heart leapt a little. Per'sus hadn't explained that fully. "Really?" Jolinar voiced Sam's reaction.

Martouf nodded briskly. "It is a surprise to the Council. The slaves on Dorieth seem to have imprisoned the Jaffa at first, to prevent a war. But after a day to cool their heels, many of the Jaffa were disposed to go along with their new freedom. Those who were most violently against it were separated from their peers, and at last report all but a few were working together with the freed slaves to set up defenses and rebuild the planet."

_~Wow,~ _said Sam. She supposed there was a lot more bitterness than that, but it wasn't as if the Jaffa'd had a choice. It was the best news they'd heard in a long, long time. It meant that change could happen, and stick.

"The Council hesitantly proposes that perhaps the Jaffa can be acquired to take down the rest of Quetesh's empire," Martouf said.

Jolinar frowned. "On what motivation? They have driven Quetesh away, what more can they wish?"

"It was a very hesitant proposal," Martouf said simply.

_~But it's the right way. It has to be.~_

Jolinar agreed, saying aloud. "Then we are still needed for this mission, if only to make the case to the Council. There are many important options." She had been glancing down, as Sam's thoughts started racing towards the Free Jaffa, and Jolinar had almost thought of the word alliance, but looking back up, Martouf was giving them a look. "What is it?" she asked.

"I should not be so pleased to see you wishing to get back in the action," said Martouf, smiling. "But I, Lantash as well, think it does you well. Some, at least."

Jolinar felt it too, the fresh rush of blood, the activity of the brain. "It is difficult for us to heal passive and alone," she admitted.

"I am surprised we did not see it sooner," Martouf said lightly, and his arm around her shoulders squeezed slightly.

After they ate, and after Sam and Jolinar returned to Vala, they still felt the affects of the fresh news. And Sam paused to wonder if maybe, maybe, they should be urging Vala towards being ready for a new task, not towards full healing first. Maybe she as well needed something to do after a certain plateau.

ooooooo

The sirens blared in the SGC at 1 in the morning, and Daniel jerked awake before the first peal had reached its peak. Shifu burst into tears, and Sha're scooted from Daniel to pick him up immediately. A short shared look of worried eyes, and Daniel darted from his bed to grab the phone.

"_Possibly enemy sighting above Earth; please report to emergency stations," _said the repeated message on the line.

Daniel couldn't put the phone back for a couple seconds, just stood and listened to it repeat a couple more times. Enemy sighting, was that attack or invasion or both, and what defenses would they have?

"An enemy ship," he explained quickly to Sha're as he grabbed a BDU jacket.

"I will be prepared to depart with Shifu," Sha're said quickly, their son wailing in her arms at the siren still blaring.

"I—I need more information," Daniel said, pausing, thinking maybe he shouldn't be leaving her.

"Then go, go," she urged, making a pushing motion with her free hand. Then, "Wait," she said, and moved to his nightstand. Daniel had forgotten his glasses.

Thanking her under his breath as he put them on, Daniel then ran up to the control room. He and Teal'c were the only members of SG-1 there, but surprisingly he saw a bleary Bill Lee and also Clare Tobias, looking over Walter's shoulders.

"What is it?" Daniel asked quickly, slightly breathless.

"Explosion!" said one of the gate techs, eyes wide as it was the only word on his mind.

"A big Goa'uld ship blew up halfway between Mars and Earth," Clare said more smoothly, still looking at the screen. "Those space watch systems that Mckay set up right after he joined your team? Well, this is now the second thing they've picked up. The first one, when your wife came, was a bit of a coincidence. But since then, everything's been refined, and we caught this much farther out."

"Wait," Daniel said, confused. "I'm only half-awake, I know, but was it just an explosion? What does that mean?"

"We're trying to get a closer look, but the debris is messing with things," said Lee, arms crossed.

"Okay, this camera might have something," said Walter. "I can't expand it much, but look at this."

Daniel leaned over the scientists' shoulders as they looked close, and saw Teal'c looking from the other side. He looked...well, stoic. Daniel wouldn't have expected anything else before they got a good lead.

"Oh sh—" Lee said, jumping a little.

Daniel squinted, eyes a little tired at first. Then he saw it—beyond the debris of a ship exploding in space, the silhouette of a Goa'uld mothership. Just like Apophis', less than a year ago.

"I should call the General, right?" Walter asked, voice wavering a little.

"Yes, yes!" said Lee.

Daniel, Teal'c, and Clare weren't panicked yet.

"No, wait," Clare said, even as Walter was out of his chair and towards the phone.

Then, right before their eyes, the mothership vanished in a burst of light, jumping into hyperspace.

"Whoa," said Lee.

"What happened to the other ship?" Clare asked, frowning.

"The first thing we caught on camera was the explosion," Walter said, still standing by the phone. "The other ship would have had to be behind it."

Daniel frowned too, a thought popping into his head.

Teal'c said it first. "It is most likely that the second ship fired upon the first, and then left upon the conclusion of its purpose in this system."

There was a pause, all of them looking to the now empty screen, then back at each other.

"Why?" asked Clare, putting up her hand.

"The Goa'uld have rivalries," Daniel said, trying to think it through even though he just wanted to yawn. "Maybe one had an interest in Earth, but the other only wanted that ship destroyed."

"Yeah, maybe," said Lee, hopeful, one arm crossed over his chest and supporting the other, which he rested his chin on, leaning back thoughtfully.

"Then we were really damn lucky," Clare said, breathing out, though not entirely convinced.

Daniel saw that Walter was still calling Hammond, though no longer looking about ready to panic.

"Still nothing," Clare said, looking back at the screen.

"I do not doubt that all is as it appears," said Teal'c calmly. "This is not a ruse such as the Goa'uld are likely to use."

Daniel really did yawn then, jaw stretching to its limits. "I need to tell Sha're that, before she has all our things packed," he said.

"Well, I probably won't be able to get to sleep tonight anyway, so I'll just stay here and keep watch," said Clare.

"And I will return to my kel'no'reem unless there is true danger," said Teal'c with a nod.

Daniel walked back towards his and Sha're's room as the siren stopped, leaving things more quiet. He was almost certain, but one thing had him wondering. Who could it have been? Who would have been coming to Earth, and who would have attacked them? It often worried him at how little they knew of Goa'uld politics. Then again, of all the Goa'uld that Daniel knew for certain were aware of Earth, he wouldn't mind if any of them had just been destroyed.

Unfortunately, they'd probably never know for sure.

"What is it?" asked Sha're.

Daniel paused, seeing her fully dressed, Shifu cradled in her wrap, and a duffle bag in her hand. "Nothing urgent," he said, resisting another yawn.

She sighed. "Oh, Dan'yel, I almost thought that we were back on Abydos with such news."

"Don't worry," he said, putting his arm around her and kissing her hair. "I still trust that things won't get that bad here; we're safer."

"Maybe one day I will believe it," Sha're said, stripping her hastily put-on clothes.

Daniel took Shifu from her arms and nodded. It would be nice if they had less reminders that things _could_ go wrong, even if they didn't.

ooooooo

"The major issue facing us is the quantity of ships," Martouf explained, sitting with Jacob and Sam in Selmak's quarters, the day after they had returned to base.

"Right," Sam said, nodding. "As soon as you take out one, they'll figure it out, but you can't take out more than one at once without the resources."

Martouf sighed, acknowledging it. Jacob said something then, but Sam and Jolinar were in their own head, and the answer seemed obvious. Why not get the Jaffa? Why not the Doriens, for that matter? Sabotage was just as good as infiltration, sometimes.

Sam glanced over to see how Vala was doing. She was quiet, but watching everything with sharp, intense looks. As always now, she seemed to be working hard to build a wall of neutrality, to keep what was truly going on inside her invisible. But she was no longer hesitant and fearful, and Sam couldn't help but feel more concerned about Quetesh.

_~I feel ready to speak to the Council,~ _Sam said to herself. _~Martouf and Lantash will be leaving in a couple days; that will be important.~_

Jolinar agreed, but they didn't feel the need to explain this to Martouf or Jacob, not yet.

It was simplest to find Garshaw, and so they did that the next day in the early morning. Jolinar thought she saw a little tautening of Garshaw's jawline as she approached, but she was open enough in her words and tone. "Yes, Jolinar?"

"It is not a request for a mission," Jolinar opened with, getting that point out of the way. But she paused, exhaling a little, feeling Sam want her to expand, and feeling the slight need for herself as well. "It would not be...wise...and I think that you know that."

Garshaw slightly raised an eyebrow, but nothing distinct.

"But for a mission already assigned, there are aspects we fear will be overlooked," Jolinar continued. "Quetesh's fleet—it is supposed to be made ineffective, yes?"

Garshaw nodded, adjusting her stance and appearing slightly more interested.

"Samantha and I believe that there is a way to accomplish that simply," Jolinar said. "But it requires trust, which means a slight risk. The Jaffa, and the people of Dorieth, may be of great help."

"In what capacity?" Garshaw asked, her arms lightly crossing over her chest.

"The same as our operatives," Jolinar explained, looking her straight in the eye. "They wish for freedom, and some have won it already. What reason is there not to use such will and such numbers again? Speak with them, and let them know what they can do, and I have no doubt that they will flock to the challenge."

"You are suggesting an alliance, Jolinar," said Garshaw pointedly. "With people who have had no time to show any tendencies that may be judged."

Jolinar shook her head sharply. "What tendencies need to be observe if they volunteer? Their capability cannot be denied."

"Their motivation?" asked Garshaw.

"That is simple," Jolinar said. She and Sam had caught onto this point only this morning, but now it seemed obvious. "Dorieth is now a settlement of free Jaffa and slaves, because they won it for themselves. Their further help may win them a piece of Quetesh's fleet to defend themselves, if they work well so that a plan succeeds."

Garshaw's eyebrow fully raised then. "What plan could possibly let the fleet survive?"

"A coup, Garshaw, not a destruction," Jolinar said. "Think of what happened on Dorieth. Instead of provoking a riot that would destroy Quetesh, we brought the Abydonians to a better understanding of the stakes, and their intelligence led them to a near-bloodless struggle. It is what we wish, as the Tok'ra, is it not? Less collateral damage?"

"But this cannot be achieved yet," Garshaw objected, even as her face was more serious than incredulous. "This random happenstance on Dorieth cannot be repeated; slaves do not become effective armies all in an instant."

Sam came forward. "That is the point, Garshaw. The Abydonians had been free for over two years when Quetesh captured them. They remembered that freedom. They passed it on. They can still do so, and I believe they would want nothing more. Remember that some of them are still captive aboard the fleet."

Garshaw frowned.

Jolinar would have pushed forward, but Sam decided that there was enough to think upon in that.

"This is not your mission anymore," Garshaw said, but not harshly. "Remember that."

Sam nodded, as Garshaw turned without another word.

They couldn't help continuing to think about things as they carried out another day. Sam sat with Vala as Larys released her from medical care, then found her a room of her own on base. His look to Sam over Vala's shoulder said that it was still in her hands and she needn't worry about precedent.

Vala sat on the simple Tok'ra bed. "Why are there no doors in this place?" she asked. The more days past, the more Sam noticed that her questions were more direct. Not curious, though.

"There is no point in privacy," Sam said. "It's—something you can't really explain so well. Everything is shared, willingly."

Vala did not look convinced, but Sam couldn't see why. Sometimes, when their minds could no longer focus on the one mission, Jolinar wondered what went on behind those eyes of Vala's. They had been so raw with fear and damage in the first days, but what was in them now was not healing, only a kind of mask. Sam thought that a mask was a sign of some strength, even if it was painful if it was necessary.

"I am surprised that it is not more interesting here, then," Vala answered in a low tone.

Sam smiled, but she wasn't sure it had been meant as humor.

The room didn't change much of Vala's behavior, though. She didn't seem shy, necessarily, but she was always near Sam or Jacob now. Sam hadn't heard Selmak in a long time, as he still held back for Vala's sake.

And then, though, there were other concerns. Martouf and Lantash were asked to wait a day longer on base, as the Council had contacted Dorieth. Jolinar felt slightly miffed to be out of the loop, even as she and Sam understood that there was no obligation to them at all, despite it being their idea.

Garshaw had, in fact, gone herself to speak to the leader of the Doriens. It was actually a combined leadership between Kasuf and Creot and Nirishi, as well as Kronon the Jaffa. They had been so eager on the first word of a possible full rescue and defeat, that Garshaw had returned almost forced to seriously consider the viability. The Council were not convinced that it was wise, though, however tempting.

"We need much more," Garshaw explained.

As Selmak explained after the meeting, they expressed more caution than they felt, because they thought that they should. "Change, Jolinar. It comes slowly. This is major, and even though there is precedent in this mission, they would be more comfortable in the usual pattern."

"But here I am, and I cannot hold to that," Jolinar said with a slight sigh.

"I do not object to that," said Selmak. "In cases. This is one."

Sam was sure, though, that she could give the Council more. And to that end, she was asked to provide more than just what was on Dorieth. What was the long-term of this plan? _~We need to go back to Chulak and Bra'tac,~_ Sam said.

But Sam and Jolinar were not the only ones with a surprise when they went through the gate again, back to peaceful Chulak.

"The false god Apophis is dead, by Sokar's might," said one of the Jaffa at the gate, leading them to Bra'tac.

Sam was shocked, though Jolinar less so. _*Such things happen, even without the Tok'ra's influence.*_

_~And likely the Council knew, but we had no reason to,~ _Sam said.

Then, they were before Bra'tac.

"Samantha," he said in opening, not quite friendly but with only minimal caution.

"Bra'tac, I am here with thanks," Sam said, smiling a little. "Your advice was well, and I have good news to report. A whole planet of Jaffa is now living free, alongside the slaves they once ruled."

Bra'tac stood stunned for a moment. "What do you speak of?"

"Of Dorieth," Sam said. "Our last visit, our mission, do you not remember?"

"I had no ideas that it might succeed," said Bra'tac, almost under his breath.

Sam did smile then. It was hard not to, when there was such anticipation and good luck just within their grasp. "I always knew that you had a chance, Bra'tac. You and the Jaffa. This has been a long time in coming to you."

"Then I thank you, Samantha," said Bra'tac, finally looking as if he had come to grips with the fact. He came forward to clasp arms with Sam, as the Jaffa around them started murmuring in excitement. "You led this, and we will be grateful once we hear from our free brothers."

"And that is only part of it," Sam said, continuing. "There is a chance for more that you can do, more Jaffa that you can free."

There was a pause, and all of their eyes were on her. "How can this not be merely an impulse?" Bra'tac asked, politely blunt.

"The world that was freed belonged to Quetesh," Sam said. "The Tok'ra have slain Quetesh, and now her empire is unsteady. The Tok'ra cannot take advantage of this alone. They are willing to think of joining with you to not only defeat her once and for all, but also to take advantage of the ships that would be left without captains. Think, Bra'tac, of all the ships that could defend the Free Jaffa. With such safety, think how your movement would grow."

Bra'tac eyed her slowly for a few seconds. "You have given this much thought, and these words much practice, I believe."

Sam smiled again. "Yeah, a little. But Bra'tac, how can we help it, when it is such an opportunity looking at us in the face?"

"I must hear more details of this opportunity," said Bra'tac finally, and gestured that Sam should come into the building.

_*All this planning of ours may have been worth it,* _Jolinar said satisfactorily. And as they looked around at all the Jaffa here, free-thinking and free-acting, they only saw evidence that they had always been right. When all was hanging in loose balance, and with time speeding away from them, they had to act fast. But the exhilaration was just the climax of something Sam had been thinking about for months now, and there was more planning to do after that.

This time, there would be no rash one-person mission. This time there would be a goal planned out to the last small detail, and all resources would be used. Sam was sure she could convince both Jaffa and Tok'ra to make this work, and it was just the focus that she and Jolinar had been looking for.

—

_Author's Notes: In case it was unclear, the scene from the SGC's point of view was the event from "Serpent's Song". Given that he could not use the alliance with the Tok'ra to his advantage, though, Apophis tried to get them involved more directly. Sokar's not an idiot, though, so it failed, and Earth stayed clear._


	71. Concession

**Chapter 70 - Concession**

Sam and Jolinar came back through the gate to the Tok'ra homeworld, Jolinar gently mocking Sam's exhilaration. _*Perhaps I don't put as much support behind this Bra'tac as you do.*_

_~I have a good feeling, all right?~_

Jolinar had a feeling it was momentary euphoria, but Sam didn't see that as needing denial. It felt good.

Reporting to the Council, she explained it briefly. Bra'tac and the other free Jaffa were not interesting in helping the Tok'ra. However, they would help themselves, and if the Tok'ra were doing likewise, they would work together. That would have to be carefully detailed.

Martouf and Lantash had to leave, but they sent message before they were gone half a day, and let the Council know—they had less than two weeks.

"Then negotiations, no matter the outcome, must begin," said Garshaw.

Sam didn't point out that they were essentially being given a mission when they returned to Chulak, asking Bra'tac if he would consider Dorieth a neutral location. He was both ready and willing, and so the entire Council currently on base made ready that very night.

"You'll help the Jaffa, won't you?" Sam asked her father as he prepared to leave. "They deserve rights and trust, I know."

"Don't worry on that," Jacob said, kissing her forehead. "Selmak is much intrigued by how you are enamored with them; we will certainly offer much to achieve this aid."

Sam smiled her thanks, and watched the Council disappear.

_~It's like our baby, isn't it,~ _she said.

_*Hmm,* _Jolinar commented, a little uncomfortable. _*You do realize, that for that analogy to work, we are the father and your father the mother going off into labor.*_

Sam's face twisted, and she tried to wipe the picture from her head.

Jolinar wondered what Dorieth looked like now, and what both visiting Jaffa and Tok'ra would think. But all they could do was wait. And pace. And frown, as Sam worried that emotions would elevate before either side realized it.

Then she paused, remembering that she was in a room with Vala, who was watching her behavior closely. "It's okay," she said aloud with half a smile. "Nothing's wrong."

"Of course," said Vala, turning her gaze slightly. But her tone was obvious; she didn't believe it.

"We're just worried, that's all," Sam said.

Vala nodded, but didn't look to her. She held a piece of her own hair, curling it around her finger.

_*What does she mean by that?* _Jolinar asked, slight frustration in her voice as she was distracted.

Sam didn't know. And she didn't know if Vala was trying to slip away from her, or if it was vice versa. Sighing, she sat and tried to think of what strategy might be decided on Dorieth.

_*And is it not odd that the planet we happened upon during an unauthorized mission should prove so distinct?*_

_~Aren't all landmarks like that? What was Abydos, before?~_

_*True. We shape the legendary out of the ordinary.*_

Vala disappeared when night came, and Sam did not notice. Jolinar had had the thought, _*What is the most that could be gained?*, _and Sam's mind had been fully interested.

The Tok'ra did not need war spoils, and their strategies rarely allowed for them. Ships, on the rare occasions when they were needed, could be acquired through other means than conquest. Everything else, they could make.

_~How big is Quetesh's fleet?~ _Sam wondered, and as the hour was late, she stared up the at the tunnel ceiling and bit back a yawn.

_*Fifteen ships, at most?* _Jolinar guessed. _*Motherships, at the least.*_

_~What would the Tok'ra do with all of that?~ _Sam wondered idly.

_*Nothing,* _Jolinar said shortly. _*There isn't anything to do with it.*_

The Council did not return that night. Sam and Jolinar stayed awake for hours, but eventually there was nothing more to think about and they drifted off to sleep.

Next morning, however, was not so dull. They didn't all come back at once. First came Thoran, grave faced but not worried. He came to bear the news, more Tok'ra would be needed at the planet.

"Trouble?" asked Jolinar, approaching him.

"No, alliance," Thoran replied.

Her heart started racing.

"There is some dispute still, but for this venture we are preparing a formal agreement." He sighed.

Sam watched as he took a few more Tok'ra up the rings, knowing they would be through the gate in a matter of minutes. Despite being the influencing hand in all of this, it felt strange to be standing outside of it. _~How can Martouf and Lantash appreciate this?~_

_*They must have more to their life than waiting,* _Jolinar said, but could remember little of what they had ever said that would take up all that time.

It seemed a much shorter time later, though, that the entire Council returned. Selmak looked weary, but only barely, and did not sigh when Jolinar approached with eager eyes.

"You have done much today, Jolinar," he began.

"Then it is done?" Jolinar asked.

"Much, yes," said Selmak, eyebrows raised as he exhaled. "But first, Jacob demands a softer seat than those provided on Dorieth. A gracious offering, but the thought behind did not allay the reality completely."

Jolinar nodded, and they made a swift way to the mess hall, taking seats at the table Jolinar always sat at. She brought over two steaming cups of hareshna as well.

"This mission is now a joint one," Selmak started. "Your enthusiasm over such a long period could not but affect, but it was seeing theirs that...helped. The work done on Dorieth has been remarkable, considering the persons involved. We were met with courtesy even from the Jaffa there, and only slightly less from the delegation from Chulak."

"And how did they deal with those on Dorieth?" Jolinar asked, taking a sip of her drink.

"Like long-lost brothers," Selmak said, shaking his head a little. "Even though the leaders carrying the most respect on Dorieth are not Jaffa. Indeed, they rallied together as a force opposite of the Council, united in their desire to push forward on this mission."

"What did some of the other Councilmembers have to say on that?" Jolinar asked.

"Nothing, in the first moment," remarked Selmak with a slight snort. "They were taken aback at the power that these people had. As if they expected them to be downtrodden and quickly cowed."

"So there was mutual respect," said Jolinar.

"Eventually, perhaps," said Selmak. "The discussion surrounded the current position of Quetesh's fleet, compared to the presence on planets. An all-out attack is certainly on the books, and all forces are being gathered together. Garshaw had barely explained this when Bra'tac insisted that he be allowed to let his people board these ships."

"Ah," said Jolinar. She and Sam could both guess how Garshaw might react.

"Much more discussion was needed," Selmak said pointedly. "The—Doriens, I believe you called them, and they have adopted for the time—they also spoke urgently for being allowed to return to slavery for this mission. They seek those on the ships who they know, and think that they will be able to provide distraction and support during the attack. That prompted the Jaffa to insist that they could lead the slaves and what Jaffa would join to overcome each ship, if only they knew when they might board each one."

Jolinar sat for a moment, overwhelmed by the information. "Really?" Sam said, taking the moment to come forward.

Selmak nodded, breathing out. "It is not the Tok'ra way to have so many options."

"That's fantastic, though," Sam continued. "There are enough people to be a large fifth column."

Selmak paused as Jacob translated that for him. "So it would seem; if it could work in reality. Essentially, the Tok'ra will organize all proceedings as follow, to prevent rash actions. But they have signed an agreement that not only will they include both Free Jaffa and Doriens in the aspects, but the purpose of the mission will be to free all who are willing, and to win the fleet. The Tok'ra will only keep one of each type of ship and Quetesh's flagship, and the rest will be divided equally between Chulak and Dorieth."

Jolinar came back, skeptical for the moment. "How willing were the Council?"

"They bent with a struggle," Selmak said. "But I believe they saw the cooperation of our new temporary allies, more than the youth and brashness. The Free Jaffa and Doriens welcome the support of the Tok'ra, who have all the knowledge. That eases things considerably."

Sam nodded. "Wow."

"What do you think?" Jacob asked, as Selmak had no more to say.

Sam thought for a moment, Jolinar too, but then looked up to her father's eyes. "I hope it will work," she said simply.

Jacob nodded.

Jaffa, Doriens, Tok'ra. In speeding up this mission to destroy Quetesh against the plan, they had managed to bring all these three together. Had not so much disaster brought it, and so much possible disaster in the future, Jolinar might have been self-satisfied. As it was, she and Sam merely let the news reignite their optimism.

ooooooo

Daniel had stared at hundreds of documents needed archiving, no one to tell him to take a break while Sha're worked with Teal'c on her self-defense skills. So often he'd gotten distracted, following rabbit trails in between their missions, researching what he could. And then he came back to his office, and remembered that he wasn't the only archaeologist, anthropologist, or historian on base. And so, today, he worked on getting things organized, and he'd do it until his eyes told him otherwise.

"Daniel?"

The soft voice didn't quite make him jump, but it snapped him out of his focus. He glanced up to see Janet Frasier, her little smile making him wonder if it was the second time she'd had to say his name. "Hi," said Daniel, looking up. "Did I forget something?"

"No," she said, "I just had a question for you." She stepped forward, resting her hands on the chair back in front of her, her smile fading. "It's going to be Cassie's birthday in two days."

Daniel was about to give his congratulations, but Janet had almost sighed those words. He nodded once, remembering Sam with a twist of his heart.

"Things have been bad enough as it is, but this is her first birthday on Earth," Janet continued, her lips pursing so that she could keep her composure. "And since Sam can't be here like she promised, I want her to not notice. If I hold the party here, do you think your whole team will attend?"

Daniel nodded quickly, understanding her request. "Of course. We haven't had a team night in a while, so this will be a welcome break. But, if you hold it at a nearby park, maybe, instead of here, then the families can come. I'm sure Cassie would enjoy seeing the Dixons."

Janet nodded. "I didn't think of that, thank you, Daniel. I'd like it to be a big thing, not too big, but enough."

"I don't think that'll be a problem," Daniel said with a bit of a smile, remembering the last team night.

"I'll get to planning then," said Janet, a little more brightly.

The last time Daniel had seen Cassie, he remembered, she'd come to see Shifu but it had been a short visit. Now, though Janet didn't specifically request it, she was going to join the SG-1 family. Which included more than SG-1 now, and Janet and Cassie would join Jean and Kaleb in that. He only wondered why it hadn't happened before.

And two days later, as Clara Dixon blew up balloons and Sha're laughed and bounced them towards Cassie, just as delighted by their strangeness, it almost seemed like they'd always been one big family like this.

ooooooo

The Council controlled all aspects of the alliance, as they said they would. They first sent word to Martouf and Lantash, and as soon as he sent back confirmation and more information, the details started being ordered about.

Eleven motherships were to participate in the battle against Ba'al's fleet, surrounded by a little over two dozen alkesh, depending on how many could deploy in time. The moment Jolinar heard that, she knew they would not have a problem with sending such huge numbers to each ship that the true Jaffa would be suspicious.

The suspicion factor, however, was most important. And Sam and Jolinar were slightly surprised when they were chosen to pay frequent visits to both Chulak and Dorieth to watch over the training of both Jaffa and Doriens. They would need to imitate those on Quetesh's ships, and that wouldn't happen quite overnight.

Having a mission again felt right, even though they were merely following orders on this one. It felt so right, that it was almost a painful reminder of what they'd originally planned when they saw Vala's face on hearing the news.

"This is so that soon, all traces of Quetesh will be gone," Sam explained.

"I have nothing against that," Vala said, looking at her with something like keen approval, in fact. In front of that was something more confused, though, maybe a little worried. "But I did not expect you to leave."

"Vala, I—" Sam started, not knowing how to react. Vala wasn't like Sha're, and Sam had made the mistake of assuming that she would be. Sam didn't know what she felt for Quetesh's former host. A niggling doubt lay at the back of her mind, saying that she could hardly feel anything if she kept thinking of her in those terms. But surely that didn't matter so much. "I can't do anything for you here, we both know that."

Vala looked at her sharply, but said nothing.

"How much do you remember now?" Sam asked out of curiosity.

"Will my answer change anything you do?" Vala asked back.

"I don't know," Sam said plainly, not letting the conversation drift too far. "Vala, you will need to make your own way. I hope you find enough of yourself to do that, and if not, then you can make more with what you have."

The look Vala gave her was one that said that she didn't think Sam knew what she was talking about. And on reflecting for a second, Sam realized that her words didn't have much. But what was she supposed to do? What were any of the Tok'ra supposed to do? They couldn't understand enough to help—it just wasn't possible.

"You won't be alone, though," Sam said, hoping that this was all Vala needed reassurance on.

And then, just like that, Vala had disappeared behind the reserve she so often showed. No words, no open looks. Jolinar winced at it, but Sam only sighed inwardly. At least she knew that Vala could handle that.

With that, with a regret that neither of them had time to identify, they turned their attention to the gate and all they were going towards, not what they were leaving behind.

The Dorieth sun was like a friend shining down on them as they entered the gate in the soft beige-tan of the usual Tok'ra uniform. It had been a long time since they'd worn it.

"Gladly do I welcome our savior," Creot said with a broad smile as he met them at the gate, offering his arm to clasp hers.

"Such words," said Jolinar, partly protesting even as she offered her own arm. "But we are pleased that you do so well."

Looking around, the planet seemed to shine with the newness of freedom. Everywhere the past marked places with evidence like scars; broken carts, cracks in walls, that still-half-finished temple to Quetesh. The Doriens did not point the focus on those, however. Instead, the village had been repaired and almost polished, and the roads and paths bustled with people willingly performing errands. Jolinar noted scrap metal being used to repair roofs already, and that was odd and yet endearing.

They walked past all this as Creot led them to where the leaders of Dorieth sat. Sam barely remembered Kronon, who had taken the mantle of Jaffa leadership on this world. Jolinar remembered him slightly better, but it was still odd how he of all of them had risen to the top. Sam wondered especially about Sheryen, but there was no time for that.

"My Jaffa will be ready to fight when it is time, of course," said Kronon, the first to address Jolinar. "But they are not ready to face their brethren with anything but weapons."

Jolinar nodded. "Our goal is to bring Bra'tac to you, or you to Bra'tac, so that you may learn more of the Free Jaffa. It will be his role to lead that movement, though, in all likelihood. For now, focus on maintaining your role aboard the Goa'uld ships."

Sam wondered that too, wondered about the numbers and the math of it all. Next, though, Nirishi was speaking to her about the Doriens. "How much will they be allowed to spread word?"

"As operatives, they must remain silent until it is near the last moment," Jolinar explained. "Only one word out of place might damage all chances, and with so many, that cannot ever be risked."

The more Jolinar explained, the more she and Sam felt that they were only just appreciating this kind of caution. The less said, the better. It just meant less opportunities for accidents. Trust was good, but their limit was with these Jaffa and these Doriens, not those on the ship. Even if they were Abydonians. Sam wasn't sure she'd agree with the Council on this, but now in the midst of it, she did.

A day later, when Sam and Jolinar were dealing with the Free Jaffa on Chulak, Martouf and Lantash sent another piece of information. This time, it was times when infiltrators could be sent to other worlds, where they might board their ships. Once there, Lantash had managed with Bra'tac's help to find a few Jaffa already on their side and aboard, and those would help to subtly rearrange both Jaffa and Doriens to optimal positions.

Bra'tac was confident that they would all be ready. Not all of those who volunteered could manage to look as if they bore Quetesh's mark on their foreheads, but that wasn't so necessary; she had other converts among her army as well. Apart from that, Sam watched them switch from role to role each day, and thought that even the Tok'ra Council could not be more pleased at their skill at roleplaying.

That night, they sat by the fire with Bra'tac, going over all she'd seen in case there was some small thing she'd missed.

"Jolinar," Bra'tac said, and she looked up to him. "You and Samantha are strange among the Tok'ra, are you not?"

Jolinar slowly nodded, mildly taken aback.

"It is of some interest to me that Tauri and Tok'ra, both only legends in my mind, should so join up as you have," he said. "It was what gave us some kind of hope, when the negotiations first began."

"We did not expect them to go so well or so quickly," Jolinar said. "Because it is true, Samantha and I are strange. We move quickly, we change, we trust perhaps too much."

"I believe I understood that after spending so many hours with your leaders," Bra'tac said with a slight amusement in his tone. "The Tok'ra are not willingly open. Some of my people think they have something to hide, perhaps a plan to take advantage of us."

Jolinar shook her head, brow creased. "No, that is not it. But once this is completed, I would not immediately count on any further interaction. Your involvement here is for damage control more than choosing a new path."

"Victory is all that matters," Bra'tac said, with a firm nod.

Jolinar didn't disagree. She dealt with other Jaffa with less trust in the Tok'ra, and the interaction made Sam glad that no one else was having to deal with the Jaffa like this. The smoother this appeared to go to the other Tok'ra, the more likely that Sam might convince them at the end to keep the pattern. Even so, she would be satisfied with a simple victory.


	72. Antebellum

**Chapter 71 - Antebellum**

Deep within the Tok'ra base, Sam couldn't understand the magnitude of just what the Tok'ra were. Even on a single planet, they were just a few steps away, back home. Contained, accessible, a small core of devoted followers of a single cause.

But then she looked at the digital representation of Quetesh's fleet, a hologram floating above a table in what used to be the commanders' quarters on Dorieth. Screen after screen flickered with images, ships circling planets, and the estimated number of troops within on screen. And then she looked outside her own window at the crowded streets of this town on Dorieth. Rows upon rows of Jaffa lined in neat armor and with weapons at hand. Doriens had not finished their farewells to compatriots and families, clad in the more formal garb of those who attended to the needs on Quetesh's ships.

Sam looked at them all, and knew that as soon as the gate opened they would depart deep into enemy territory. Deep in this case encompassing millions of miles, after which they would do their work in compartments that only barely kept out the unforgiving emptiness of space.

A hierarchy sat in place and they all knew it well. Martouf and Lantash now held the highest authority, but they had named the five Jaffa who answered the call to lead beneath them. Only five, but the fleet had not yet been arranged. Slaves had been offloaded to be resorted and regathered in preparation for battle, and the fleet lay around three close planets. Both Doriens and Jaffa would arrive at night on two of the planets, where their Jaffa contacts would arrange them into their teams before morning arrived. After this, each team of Jaffa and Doriens would be aboard their own ship, and would await the signs to bring the plan to conclusion.

Jolinar had looked back at the visual representation of the fleet on hologram, but she looked back to the crowds outside on the planet with a remark that wasn't Sam's. _*I have never fought war like this.*_

This was something they could agree upon. _~Do you like it?~_

_*No, not really. It is all eggs in one basket, as you say. And—and I would prefer that it all be within my control.*_

_~Yeah,~ _Sam said. It might not have been the best, that they shared the desire to be in control of things. But it was at least comfortable. _~And given the face of Ren'al this morning, I think only the Doriens and the Jaffa are actually excited.~_

_*It is good that they have no bitterness,* _said Jolinar as she looked down on said people, fidgeting, waiting.

"Devret!" Inchen called to her as the sun drew to its correct place, and as Sam and Jolinar made their way up to the gate. He wore the blue-grey of one of those that would be sent to Quetesh's former flagship. Sam paused and stepped a little closer to him. "We regret that there was no time to show you all of our work here," he said in a lower tone.

"The opportunity isn't gone yet," said Sam with a bit of a smile. "We can wait for our tour."

Inchen smiled, even as the anticipation gave him a tense appearance. "And if all goes well, a ship will crush the rubble of Quetesh's construction, sitting there as both defense and reminder."

"I certainly hope so," said Sam, and clasped hands with him before continuing on.

Barely after reaching the top, the gate started to rumble with approaching wormhole. Sam nodded to the Jaffa nearest, and he passed it down the road to the awaiting "army" in the village. Sam could almost hear their rising murmur like a cloud coming up from the valley, even as the gate whooshed and opened.

A Jaffa stepped through, squinting his eyes against the sudden daylight on Dorieth. He bowed to Sam, who nodded to indicate that she knew who he was. Word passed down again, and a third of the people started walking up to the hill. The Jaffa dialed back to his world as they approached.

Sam watched Bra'tac on the other side of the road leading to the gate, watching as he nodded to every one of his Free Jaffa who passed, each one putting one clasped hand to their foreheads. Soon they were all gone, but Sam and Bra'tac stood up for another moment.

_*It's almost like sending family away, to you, isn't it?* _Jolinar asked without warning.

_~I don't know,~ _Sam answered, quickly but honestly. _~But I think I hope not.~_

They walked back down to make sure of the timing for the next exodus, less than an hour away, but Jolinar wasn't recalling the feelings of being a warlord sending soldiers out to be slaughtered. She wasn't recalling any feelings; these were all new. But since Sam didn't know either, it didn't fascinate her for long.

They only managed a few more short comments and conversations before it felt time again, and the gate opened just before Sam crested the hill. Another Jaffa, another shifting movement of the crowd, another destination that they were all going to. All except her, of course.

But when they were finally all gone, and Jolinar was momentarily satisfied by the error-free event, even though they couldn't know what happened on the other side, even then Sam remembered how many were left. The old, the pregnant, those who could not master their terror enough to be in disguise. A crowd of them waited in the main village square for hours after the "troops" left, some thinking of family who had gone, others realizing that now all they could do was wait.

And Sam and Jolinar felt it perhaps most keenly of them all, as the light faded and they had nowhere to be.

None of the leaders sent back news of any failure, which in the code they had set up meant that all was going well. How well was unsure, but Sam felt that she was the only one to care about that much detail; her and Jolinar. Even Selmak seemed unconcerned or worried about anything.

Vala did not cling to them as soon as they got back. Sam barely saw her the rest of that day and most of the next. They spent hours with Selmak, too, so there should have been opportunity.

"She is like Sha're," said Larys when Sam asked if he'd seen her. "Roaming."

Sam wondered at the truth of that, but found her mind much more interested in calming and waiting for the next news. And the day after that, it came. The recon of the other Goa'uld had been successful at last, and had discovered Ba'al's central location around a fairly small planet called Selenis. _"They are taking minimum time to think over it; they plan to attack Ba'al personally within three days."_

Jolinar thought upon hearing that, _*How has our speed infected the universe?*_

_~They're just making sure he doesn't disappear before they arrive.~_

Three days, though. And if somehow their plan could work, the fourth day would see Quetesh's entire empire without leadership, all her ships and worlds in the hands of free nations. And their only regret would be not seeing it in the moment.

ooooooo

"Well what am I supposed to do with this?" Daniel asked, frowning as he bounced Shifu on his knee.

"Don't act like an idiot, Jackson," Mckay said. "You weren't ever going to raise that kid here his whole life."

Daniel stared at the government release form. "Where are we supposed to go? Sha're hates cars and airplane noise, and Shifu sleeps badly enough. At least on base things are comfortable."

"And dangerous," Mckay said, tone loud as if he thought Daniel didn't hear him. "Good god, didn't you hear what that amoeba Felger did?"

"No, actually," said Daniel, finding Mckay's insults to his coworkers difficult to ascribe.

"Nearly released an alien organism into the ventilation system, that's all," said Mckay, snorting. "I'd like to know who told him he was a biologist. But the point is—kids are resilient, sure, but they don't belong here."

Daniel looked back down at the paper, shifting Shifu to his other knee. "That's probably the point; after that ship explosion caused all the cover story fuss, they're trying to get back to the formal military rules that we started with."

"You think that?" Mckay asked, suddenly intrigued.

"It makes sense," Daniel said. "All the government fuss about everything else is just leading towards that direction any way."

"Who's our government liaison?" Mckay asked. "An egghead, or someone in their pocket?"

Daniel paused. "I don't know. It didn't really matter, the last time he came."

"Well, someone had better put it through his head that messing with a system that works is the very definition of stupidity, which may be the government's trademark, but I don't think they'll admit it," said Mckay with a little agitation, a little heat.

Shrugging, Daniel inwardly found it rather endearing how close Mckay had become to his job, that had barely been his half a year. Then, however, he sighed and realized he'd have to discuss this with Sha're. He'd gotten close to this too, in a more literal sense. And he liked being able to sleep in his office and still have his son within hearing. But if all this change was a storm cloud in the distance, it might also be good to do what he could to alleviate things.

oooooooo

It seemed like only hours after Sam and Jolinar heard about the planned attack on Ba'al at Selenis, that a small sphere was delivered to them. A Goa'uld communicator, usually, but the Tok'ra sometimes used them. And when Jolinar held it in her hand, the opaque color rippled and became a video screen. Sam was impressed.

"Lantash?" Jolinar asked upon seeing the face on the screen.

"Jolinar, my beloved," he answered with easy seriousness. "How are you doing?"

"Nothing to say," Jolinar answered.

"That is good," said Lantash. "For Martouf and I have a request, that will involve some action on your part."

Jolinar couldn't hide that her eyebrow perked up at this point.

"I have spoken to the Council, and they agree with us that given the haste of this plan, too much is at risk." Lantash paused only a second. "Not too much that it should be called off, but too much to be without a secondary plan."

Jolinar nodded. Sam wasn't sure, though, what more back-up there could be than the couple hundred or so allies aboard all the ships.

"It is our request that you, and a few Jaffa from Dorieth, take the cargo ship that you adapted to cloak and covertly join the fleet when we go to attack Ba'al," said Lantash. "In that case, you may stay hidden if all goes well, but will be a trustworthy leader if needed."

Jolinar blinked, then quickly went into her head. _*We may be part of the plan after all?*_

_~We aren't going to say no, are we?~ _Sam asked urgently.

Jolinar's answer served for both of them. "Was there any doubt that we would accept?"

Lantash smiled a little there, and it was nice even through the small screen on the communication sphere. "It will give us much comfort to know that your skills will be within our grasp should emergency strike."

Jolinar huffed a little. "And we are more interested in not being required to sit and cool our heels to wait for news."

Lantash nodded. "Very well. Assemble your ship and your team, and I have already sent the coordinates of where we are gathering. And—it will be good to have both of you on board, regardless of skills."

"Likewise," Jolinar answered with a small smile of her own.

_~I certainly hope Anise hasn't fussed too much with that cloaking device,~_ Sam thought.

Neither Anise nor Freya were currently on base, so Sam had to check for herself what the cloaking device could still do. Jolinar felt suspicious, but only for a second. Then, they watched the ship shimmer out of sight with the remote activator now provided, all feelings other than a subdued kind of glee left them. _~Not bad for a shoddy one time impulse job.~_

_*Samantha, have you always brought innovations wherever you go?*_

That question was rhetorical, but mostly because Jolinar could see Sam's mind on everything but random questions. The cloak worked well now, but the power supply might not be fully stable for a whole journey. Two days still lay between their arrival in the fleet, and the fleet's attack at Selenis on Ba'al; two days in which continued cloaking would be essential.

_*We cannot control that,* _Jolinar decided. _*Come, we must assemble our team.*_

Sam smiled a little, a wistful smile, and Jolinar caught her tone of thought; Sam had taught her the value of teamwork, somehow, over these past six months. But then Jolinar just shrugged, and began heading towards the gate.

For the first time, quiet enveloped Dorieth when Sam and Jolinar traveled through the gate. Neither the hurry of slavery, nor the bustle of rebellion, just waiting and steady working. Sam and Jolinar both had not given thought to the survival of the planet once supplies ceased arriving as per Quetesh's orders. Had they guessed beforehand, they would not have assumed that a slave population could reorganize, even with the Abydonians' help. Now, though, it seemed obvious to assume that the people who spent their lives running the systems of this world could begin to understand them without orders.

And so they did, and Jolinar walked through them in silence. She wore simple Tok'ra brown today, and didn't impress on any of them by sight. Most of the Dorien Jaffa now worked among their human counterparts. Not all of them looked pleased about it, but no resentment lay in their eyes either. Jolinar knew that the ones who bore that burden would still be incarcerated on the planet. Not many, thankfully.

_~I don't think it would have worked if the Doriens had not been in charge,~ _Sam commented. _~Left on their own, the Jaffa might have sought a new master, or waited for one. But the Doriens forced them to at least think of freedom, and what slave when given that option will not choose to think a little more?~_

Jolinar stopped for a second, standing on the road that she and Sam had brought to this planet, still a work in progress moving forward. She recognized this one. "Corrifin," she said.

The Jaffa looked up, hoe in his hand where he had been crushing gravel into the road bed. His eyes widened, but he did not stand to attention. "Am I to refer to you as Devret?" he asked cautiously.

Sam didn't know why they still kept their name hidden, but Jolinar was quick to nod. "That will do well. How go you?"

Corrifin said nothing. He had never been one of the more vocal Jaffa, though granted those were few in any case. "I wish to return to my family in safety," he said, his dark eyes meeting hers with an ease, and yet it would have been considered boldness, of someone who is learning what freedom feels like. "And since I may no longer doing that by serving my god, I am holding on to the hope that they may be freed as well with this action. I am not certain on it."

Jolinar nodded. "But you are satisfied on this planet, waiting?"

The look on Corrifin's burnt umber face told the emphatic 'no' better than the word itself.

Jolinar nodded again, swifter. "Come then, and you may join me in a covert mission. It can only help."

Corrifin's eyebrows rose. "You would give your trust so far?"

Jolinar eyed him from under an eyebrow. "I would hardly give you a weapon and myself go without, but yes, as far as the mission goes, I would trust you."

"And I should hardly say no to a chance at honor and victory," Corrifin said, straightening.

"Neither should I," Jolinar said with a slight quirk of her lips. She tipped her head towards him. "Gather your things, then. We depart in but a few hours."

And Sam simply sat in the back of her head, pleased. Jolinar knew that she would not have done something like this a year ago, certainly not with Jaffa. But it was Sam who acknowledged it in the open, as Jolinar continued her search. Two more Jaffa, Or'on and Hemshet, also appeared open to Jolinar's request, and finished off the team she assembled.

After a quick stop back at the Tok'ra base to gather some supplies and to change uniforms, Sam and Jolinar returned to Dorieth to find their small team waiting. It was strange, and they all acknowledged it with odd looks that they tried to hide. But Jolinar nodded firmly, and the other three nodded back, and they were all ready for the fight to come.

Sam took the controls once they boarded the cloakable tel'tac, and punched in the coordinates that Martouf and Lantash had set. A whoosh of stars and purple hyperspace clouds, and then they popped out into regular space again. They had arrived on the border of the system where Quetesh's fleet was gathering. Sam cloaked, gave the ship a few moments just in case, and then started flying the ship in.

"And now we wait?" asked Corrifin, taking the copilot's seat.

Jolinar nodded slowly. "We may communicate with Tirnin through Tok'ra communications, but even he would not and cannot increase the speed."

"This ship," said Or'on, glancing around as he stood between the two seats. "Will we receive this technology once the battle is won?"

Jolinar hesitated, leaving Sam to take control. "That's not an easy question," Sam said. "I assume you mean the cloaking, and that's not fully trustworthy yet."

Or'on gave her a look, sharp blue eyes not quite fearful but almost.

"We don't consider it a risk at the moment," Sam continued, looking him in the eye even as she maneuvered to the edge of the system. "But it needs more testing before it's ready to do anything with."

But that answer was enough, and all four of the motley crew now became distracted, as Sam rotated the ship to face the fleet. Sam thought of the power of this mass, just as soon as their operatives could take control; Jolinar thought of the danger to Ba'al if they met delays for even a second. When Sam glanced back at the Jaffa, though, she saw in their eyes the awe of imagining that all these ships might be theirs. The price of freedom might be worth the cost if it came with this.

Sam glanced at the timing, seeing that it was in the timeframe where they could make contact. She flicked the switches on the console, finding the Tok'ra frequency. "The teltac is now in place," she said, keeping it simple.

"_Excellent news," _came Lantash's voice back after a few seconds.

"What do you expect of this battle?" she asked again, eyes still on the fleet, relishing the sense of a plan going well.

"_I trust in the plan," _Lantash said, _"but nonetheless there are variables. I do not think that these Goa'uld leaders know enough of Ba'al's tactics to properly fight him. And yet, he will be expecting Quetesh's personal touch; the news of her death has not spread yet."_

"How fast do you think our people will be able to take control of the ships?" Sam asked.

"_Idle questioning, is it not?"_ Lantash offered, the wryness in his voice slightly weary.

"Maybe, yes," Sam answered, her mouth twisting in half a smile. "Idle speculation is all there is to do right now."

"_True. It is not to be discouraged, either, as long as you don't create conclusions from speculation."_

Jolinar took control for the moment, a little dark hum in the back of her throat. "We are well aware with the fact that it will be necessary to improvise."

"_Yes, that is something you excel at—it is why you are here, remember?"_

"Then we will speculate, idly, until we are needed," said Jolinar. A slight acknowledgment from the other side, and then she ended the connection.

They all four sat or stood still for the next few minutes. Sam wanted to ask questions of the Jaffa, something more personal than their willingness to join a Tok'ra spy mission. Jolinar caught her before she attempted it, though, her own thoughts certain that it wouldn't be a good idea. Jaffa culture did not tend to conversation, and certainly not before a battle. Sam, too, would probably be better if she thought of this as war times.

_~It's the last war, in a sense. We did this all backwards, taking out Quetesh first, but it's the two things we needed.~_

_*With this done, we can finally accomplish our goal.*_

_~The only one we ever had.~_

_*And then all we have left is to gather the pieces.*_

—

**Author's Note:** This upcoming battle is actually drawn from canon, where Ba'al grumps that Quetesh destroyed much of his fleet at the Battle of Selenis. One of the first changes to this AU, leading Ba'al and then Quetesh to Abydos, sped up the timeline on Quetesh being able to attack Ba'al, but I've tried to follow the canon of their interactions (as little as it is).


	73. Victory

**Chapter 72 - Victory**

Perhaps on some world a sun rose red to foretell the battle that lay ahead. But Sam and Jolinar and all those who would fight today had been in space for more than two days, and day had no true meaning. Such as it was, however, the morning came with fresh anticipation.

Jolinar watched from behind the one-way blindness of the cloak on their ship, listening to the orders over the comms and watching the ships organizing themselves. Quetesh's lieutenants were surprisingly cooperative.

The giant ships tilted, rotated, and from where she was Jolinar could see the entire fleet. She wondered if the ships in front knew that they were weaker, almost a kind of bait or shield, in case Ba'al was ready for them. But the larger and stronger ships weren't far behind either.

No one on Jolinar's ship spoke, and even Sam had no specific thoughts. Maybe the same was true on the other ships; maybe the undercover Abydonians and Free Jaffa did not betray their anxiousness with any sounds. One could only hope. In a couple hours at most, they would have to rebel against an army that had been their lifelong fearmonger. And the Jaffa would have to rise up against brethren, and hope that they would see that connection as a higher loyalty.

If not, blood would be spilt. And for all her reluctance, as Jolinar pondered Ba'al's fleet now, she only thought of the Jaffa as potential allies. Even were it not necessary to keep Ba'al in power, she wouldn't have been pleased if those lives had been lost. For once in her life, this battle was solely to prevent all bloodshed.

"What will our role be?" asked Hemshet suddenly, as the fleet was almost ready to jump into hyperspace.

"Support," said Jolinar. "If there's disaster, we can offer advice or the element of surprise."

"_We are ready,"_ Lantash's voice crackled over the Tok'ra frequency.

"Understood," Jolinar said. She glanced back, noting that the Jaffa had all taken their places, standing or sitting ready. Breathing in slowly, she punched the hyperspace coordinates into the controls. Out the window, the ships all jumped within a few seconds of each other, disappearing in flash after flash.

_~I love this part,~ _Sam said with plain appreciation.

Jolinar answered with a short nod, then pressed the control. A slight lurch, and they jerked into hyperspace. It would be a short trip.

Even going at un-upgraded speeds, Selenis only lay a few minutes from where the fleet had assembled. Barely enough time for Sam and Jolinar to really understand what would wait them, before they jumped back out, and into the chaos that would only get worse.

Jolinar flicked the shield up immediately, and then saw outside the window. Selenis, the planet, shone green-blue in front of them, but Ba'al's fleet surrounded it on all sides. It was at least twice the size of theirs.

_*Not the best,* _Jolinar commented, quickly but coolly. Still, her heart raced even though they were hidden.

Only a second after arrival, the ships began to move. Even in the vastness of this space, they moved fast, some of Ba'al's coming around from what was now the backside of the planet, and the ones already in front positioning to open fire.

Jolinar flicked the switch to hear the comm orders of the Goa'uld on their side, then shot her gaze back out to the fleet. They flew forward in one organized mass as the first shots lit up the vacuum of space.

_~What do you suppose Ba'al is doing?~ _Sam asked, distracted from their original goal.

Jolinar looked back to his fleet, and caught sight of a ship far back, and far larger than usual. _*Flagship,* _she said.

Behind them, the other Jaffa had come forward and watched out the window. The comms buzzed with short orders, but more was happening than was ordered. Ba'al's ships clustered until one could hardly see the planet behind them, sending out deliberate and continual volleys. Goa'uld shields held for now, but Quetesh's fleet was diving into it.

A minute later, one of the teltacs exploded, and in the shielding cloud of debris one of Quetesh's former hatak's managed to break through Ba'al's front line, barely passing the ships. Still, there seemed no plan beyond simple attack.

_~When will the takeover happen?~ _Sam wondered, slightly worried.

But Jolinar perked up after a minute when an unfamiliar Goa'uld voice came over the radio.

"_Spare no damage. Break through. We must behead this fleet."_

Jolinar's hands gripped the controls, and suddenly their ship was moving in, the chaos of action growing larger and larger.

_~They're going after the flagship,~_ Sam said, understanding immediately.

_*And Quetesh wouldn't kill Ba'al, which he knows, but this isn't Quetesh's fleet anymore.*_

_~But he wouldn't—surely—~_

Jolinar wouldn't wait to see if Ba'al would underestimate anything. They couldn't hear the shots from Ba'al's defense as they flew between them, undetected, unshielded with the cloak, but everything outside the window was bright like a fireworks show.

_~Is our plan going well?~ _Sam wondered, trying to see what was happening.

_*Nothing over the comms yet,* _Jolinar commented.

Quetesh's flagship was diving straight toward Ba'al's, almost collision speed. It started firing a few seconds before his, but straight at the heart of the ship. Sam saw the explosions almost immediately.

_*His shields were on weapons, not his core,* _Jolinar said, and added a silent curse. _*He expected disabling shots; he expected her to try and capture him.*_

_~Wait, he can't be destroyed, that's the whole point of our mission,~_ Sam answered, worried for real. The ships grew larger, both firing but Ba'al's already on fire.

"_Jolinar?" _Lantash's voice sounded over the comm, slightly interrupted in the middle.

"In the center," Jolinar shot back, almost spinning the teltac to get into position.

That was enough, and she wasn't distracted as she prepared her defense. Quetesh's flagship had nothing to fear yet, and then suddenly Jolinar turned off the cloak. Gliding in on the left, she fired three shots into the front weapons arrays on the ship, and then just turned the ship before reengaging the cloak. Both times, it worked flawlessly, and Sam and Jolinar felt a thrill at the success.

Caught in the moment, Jolinar spun around, Ba'al's ship saved and now behind them. But no battle raged behind, on the outer defense of Selenis. Instead, Quetesh's ships flew forward without detour or change of course. Flying only on the last course set, Sam immediately guessed that no one was at the helms.

"Success?" asked Or'on, gripping the back of Corrifin's copilot seat.

"_This is Natar of the Free Jaffa!" _came a loud, firm voice over the comm. _"We have taken this ship from the false gods, and call all our brethren to do so. You have allies waiting to help you—join our fight and gain your freedom!"_

Or'on slammed his hand down on the back of the seat, glint of satisfaction and excitement in his eyes.

_*They were already on the way,_* Jolinar added, eyes flicking between the ships. Ba'al's were still firing, but the shields on the other ships still held on long enough. _*This is just the vocalization.*_

"_And I am Herak of the Free Jaffa, bringing another ship to freedom!" _came another call.

Sam felt Jolinar's knuckles whiten as it seemed to be working. In the dark of space, only brightened by weapons, she still caught sight of two ships pulling back from Selenis. And then, though the comms didn't buzz again, two more.

"_Jolinar," _came Lantash's voice over the Tok'ra frequency. _"Come, withdraw. This ship is also free, and I intend to clear a path for the rest of ours, free yet or not."_

"No point in hiding anymore, then," Jolinar answered.

Several of Ba'al's ships had withdrawn around the still-burning flagship, and Jolinar had a clear path as soon as she turned off the cloak and turned on her shield. A clear path was not what she needed. Flanking on what felt like a dime to Sam, she sent a few shots at the ships nearest, clustered against some of Quetesh's. They stopped firing for a second, and Jolinar used her maneuverability to duck beneath a few, coming up to fire at more.

It was barely needed, though. Half of Quetesh's ships had fallen back before Jolinar first fired, and all but two al'kesh and one small hatak still foundered among the volleys of Ba'al's ships when she pulled up outside of Selenis' defenses.

"_We are allied, and we have won,"_ came Lantash's voice over the command frequency. _"Now we return before Ba'al destroys it."_

Jolinar paused only a second to wonder about the other ships, but then she had the return coordinates in the system. Ba'al's ships were still rearranging when they shot back into hyperspace.

ooooooo

"I swear, nothing is happening anywhere in the universe," Mckay said, kicking the edge of the table sharply to push back in his chair.

"Rodney," Daniel sighed. Since when was his most common conversation partner always Mckay? "If you just came into my office to complain—"

"Don't act like it doesn't affect you," Mckay interrupted, pointing a finger at him. "You and Sha're and your kid are stuck here, nothing changing. The Dixons are—as always. My sister does nothing but try to get more permission from the government, and rag on me if she doesn't get it, and for that matter I'm not getting anything to do either. The team hasn't been on a proper mission in weeks, since I don't count the planet with the weird singing aliens and plants that didn't have anything interesting, and nothing looks like it's changing."

Daniel fidgeted with his pencil, but decided to humor Mckay. It always bugged him a little at how there was always truth in what the scientist said, even if it was overlaid by attitude. "I think Jack may be seeing Sara tonight."

"Really?" Mckay paused, letting his chair sit back up straight. "Why? How do you know?"

"It's just speculation," Daniel said.

"But that doesn't disprove anything," Mckay answered back quickly.

"Do I want to know what you're arguing about?" Dixon asked, arriving with his arms loosely crossed.

"Mckay happens to think that nothing is ever going to happen apart from the status quo," said Daniel, eyebrow's slightly raised. "What do you think?"

Dixon jerked a little. "God, Mckay, haven't you watched any movies?" Before Mckay could jump in to protest, he continued, "You just jinxed us, I swear."

"Well, it could hardly be worse," Mckay said, only vaguely blustery at being outgeeked.

Dixon rolled his eyes, and Mckay snapped his mouth shut, realizing his mistake. Daniel almost smiled, but decided not to. He didn't quite trust their luck. And while with Shifu being both more a joy and more a pain the older he grew, he certainly didn't lack for things happening in his own life, the rest of everything did feel a little too calm for comfort.

Maybe Mckay was right; maybe everywhere in the universe nothing was going on.

ooooooo

Jolinar couldn't hide a broad smile as she ringed down to the planet where they'd all organized only a few days before. Martouf and Lantash had come with a couple leaders, and slowly the ships were being unloaded. At least here there was a sun to shine brightly as a symbol of their buzz of elation filled both atmosphere and sound as the conversation flittered back and forth between topics of their success. Jolinar strode forward to her mates.

"We succeeded?" she said, but it was barely a question.

Martouf smiled back at her. "Something, at least."

"Early tallies?" Jolinar asked, glancing around at the few Jaffa and Abydonians on the ground.

Martouf sighed then. "Many Jaffa had to be killed to achieve our goals, and some even ringed aboard Ba'al's ships. But nearly all the slaves were rescued, if all reports are true."

"What now?" asked one of the Jaffa leaders, approaching Jolinar and Martouf as they stood.

"We count our losses, give honor to the dead, and fulfill our agreements," Martouf said simply. "But it will take time."

"After the ships are exchanged, what is left?" Jolinar asked, relaying Sam's question for her.

Martouf breathed out slowly, facing her. He spoke a little more softly. "Whether it was planned or not, the Jaffa have now formed their own nation to all intents and purposes. And the former slaves, both from the ships and on Dorieth—all of these things are not set up to exist permanently on their own."

Jolinar settled a little, her excitement calmed. "Hmm."

_~It's never over easily, I should have remembered that,~ _Sam said, feeling a little sheepish.

"And in all truthfulness, it would be proper to exchange the ships with a proper government," Martouf continued, glancing out at the assembling Free Jaffa, his arms crossed a little as he seemed to see a vast work to be done.

"So it was not just an alliance for this one mission," Jolinar commented wryly.

"It worked beyond the Council's dreams," Martouf answered, looking back with satisfaction in his eyes. "I cannot see them unwilling to keep this advantage, this connection."

"If they continue to use their minds, I agree with you," said Jolinar, almost lightly.

But Sam's mind had strayed from the point, and she saw Drego ring down with a few other Abydonians. "Excuse us," Jolinar said, nodding to Martouf before walking over.

"Devret!" said Drego brightly as she approached. His face looked worn with the day, but not heavy.

"What do you know of your people?" Sam asked, taking control to ask eagerly. It hadn't escaped her mind for long that this had been their secret goal all the time.

"That many are saved," said Drego, though his smile looked vaguely pain. "Not all well, but all now free. And the Jaffa—they are not our enemies." He reached out to touch Sam's hand. "So much has happened that we did not imagine."

"It is kind of amazing," Sam acknowledged, looking around the planet and wondering what freedom felt like when it was brand new.

"We must gather all of us, count ourselves," Drego mentioned. "We knew every name."

"Are you going to ally with the Jaffa?" Sam asked.

"How should I know?" Drego asked, then laughed, tired as he was. "How should I know anything? We are free, the choice is ours, any choice we could wish to make."

Sam answered with a short laugh, squeezing his hand. "Free again."

_*On this world, perhaps,* _Jolinar said just to remind Sam.

But as the sun shone brighter and then began to dip low, Martouf and Lantash spoke to the previously set leaders, to those who led outside of the battle, and Sam and Jolinar gathered what information they could.

This planet had no strong Goa'uld presence; it's people joined freely. Dorieth would also be a safe place, and then Bra'tac came forward and suggested Chulak.

"You speak the truth when you say that we are riding on a wave of one triumph," Bra'tac said. "And if we are to continue, we must remember what we accomplished. Chulak is the downfall of Apophis, Dorieth the downfall of Quetesh. Let them be symbols, guarded, but let this world serve as our core."

"What about Quetesh's other worlds?" asked Nirishi, who had arrived from Dorieth a couple hours after the return from the battle.

"We approach them with our fleet, explain the options, and deal with any who would seek to attack us," said Inchen with a slight shrug.

Lantash shook his head shortly. "Do not be so rash in your first actions. These deeds will spread among the Goa'uld as it is, but if you keep low, the full extent may not strike them for some time."

"Through the chappa'ai, then?" asked Emeron, one of the new Jaffa leaders.

"Possibly," Lantash said. "But first, do you not wish to know what you are and what your goals are? At the moment you band together as an organized mob; you are more than that, so arrange yourself as that first, before you give yourselves missions."

The advice was well received. Sam felt the aura of exhilaration among them all, an attitude that made them want to shout to the entire universe that they ruled it. False gods no longer frightened them; Jolinar knew that soon they would have reason to fear again, though still less than they had before. But unlike what she feared, they did not fall flat as soon as an attempt at official organization came about.

Sam and Jolinar spent the night on the planet, as Martouf and Lantash returned to the base for debriefing. By the next night, counts were in, and almost the first census of the new Free Jaffa Nation. Except—and maybe that would be the first on the agenda—what of those who were not Jaffa?

But Sam and Jolinar did not sleep well that second night. While Jaffa and Doriens seemed to still run on the adrenaline of victory, Jolinar felt that her own body could not take it so well. A lingering feeling of wearing out gripped her, and she wondered incredulously how she could not be fully recovered at this point. Sam pressed the point that there was no reason to be on this world, and Jolinar took only a few more hours to agree and return to the Tok'ra base.

It was some vague amusement to them to find a similar buzz among their own people. The Council seemed to be aflutter, all their expectations collapsed under the weight of underestimation and just plain good luck. Selmak explained it best when they met.

"After all the rashness you showed that did not succeed, you were justified in the end," he said, looking at her with a fond almost-smile. "And were it just you, they could admit that a long shot pulled off. But they have hundreds of witnesses eager to carry on. They cannot simply ignore them and carry on in secrecy, not when they want an alliance that will lead to further victories. But they cannot do that either, give up our whole goal."

Jolinar nodded. "And so the debate rages on."

Selmak hmmed, looking at her from underneath deep brows. "Upheaval should not be a continual state."

"At least the Free Jaffa know how much planning went into the mission," Sam said with a slight shrug. "And I think Bra'tac knows even more of the circumstances."

"Well, we can only hope that they prove so wise when they ask for negotiations," Selmak said sighing. He almost turned to walk away, then reached out to touch Sam's shoulder, rub it softly. "They may not say it, but you did end up preserving our entire purpose, or at least helping with it. It is a matter of pride for you."

Sam smiled. "Well, I hope so."

But she and Jolinar walked away from the buzz. Jolinar took a long bath, breathing in the scented steam and hoping it would cleanse the last vestiges of what kept them from reaching peak condition again.

_~What is next for us?~ _Sam wondered.

_*Clean up the mess, help the Abydonians find themselves, what else?*_

_~I don't know,~ _said Sam, not quite ready to focus back on the sensual pleasure of the warm bath. But for so long she'd been focusing on the moment, and now she felt that she was forgetting the future.

_*The future will be full of little things to hold our attention,* _Jolinar assured, closing her eyes and exhaling slowly.

Given the post-battle mess they'd already seen, Sam couldn't help but agree with that.


	74. Communication

Sorry this is getting up late. I tried to upload it last night, but something was messing with the uploading process. It didn't work this morning either, but after much confusion and communication, hopefully this time it will work.

**Chapter 73 - Communication**

But their first sleep without any urgent mission on the horizon didn't fall smoothly. Curled beneath the warm blankets, Jolinar woke first when the alert sounded just outside the lack of door in their chamber. She blinked, as Sam woke a little more slowly, then held the blanket to her chest and grabbed the robe that sat by their bed. It was barely slipped on when a Tok'ra stopped in the doorway.

"What is it?" Jolinar asked quickly.

"Security has failed, but it is something you will be most called to," said the Tok'ra, waiting as Jolinar stood and pushed her hair back.

_~How could that be?~ _Sam asked, but Jolinar's frown spoke the question aloud for them.

"It is Quetesh's host," the Tok'ra explained as they walked quickly down the halls, the alert flashing and the sound annoying. "She incapacitated two guards by the rings when they refused to grant her access to the surface. We believe she is up there now, but the gate is guarded."

"So, like Cordesh," Jolinar said, half under her breath.

_~What is Vala doing?~ _Sam wondered, worried for everyone involved.

"We have spent no time with her, so we do not know how to deal with this," the Tok'ra explained. "Garshaw asked for you."

"Of course," Jolinar said, the last of sleep bleariness gone from her eyes, even if her mind felt a little heavy.

It only took a couple minutes to get to Garshaw, and the Grand Councillor spoke swiftly. "Vala Mal Doran cannot leave like this; she is behaving unstably, and is a risk to both us and herself."

Sam nodded.

"I was afraid of this, even after what you seemed to accomplish," Garshaw said with a sigh.

_~Why does it have to be so difficult?~ _Sam wondered. But now was not the time. She and Jolinar ringed to the surface, and met the pure dark of the sky, full moon and stars giving long shadows to every rock and dune.

Four Tok'ra stood by the gate, not letting Sam's presence distract them from their task.

_*She will be waiting nearby, we may assume,* _Jolinar said, addressing their task. _*But what can she be thinking?*_

_~Maybe she isn't, I don't know.~ _But Sam did know that this didn't feel right.

Jolinar scanned the horizon, but she couldn't get into Vala's head to know where she'd head. After standing for a moment, her eyes finally adjusting to the lighting, she decided to go on instinct. It was more than a guess, all things considered.

Vala wasn't Cordesh, however. Jolinar had barely gone two hundred yards from the gate when she caught a glimpse of movement. She darted silently after it.

Her feet patted almost without sound across the soft sand, and she'd almost caught up to Vala when the woman turned around.

"Vala, do not run," Jolinar asked, putting out a hand.

Vala turned sharply to dart away again, but tripped over the unstable surface. Jolinar stepped forward to grab her hand, hold her still. But Jolinar didn't see Vala's hand clench in the dark, and so was completely off guard when Vala punched her sharply across the jaw. Jolinar's head snapped back, and she felt more shock than she should have, given how desperate Vala had already shown herself.

"Vala," Jolinar started to say a second after, still not letting go, but Vala's fist came up again and Jolinar didn't have time to think, she just shot her own punch back at Vala.

Vala breathed in sharply at the hit, but stopped trying to escape, bringing her hand up to her face. Sam regretted the action, and Jolinar didn't need much convincing, but now they had nothing—Sam took control to step closer to the now-still Vala.

"We aren't your enemy, Vala," she said softly.

But even in the dark, Vala's eyes were wide and bright with fright. "Let me go," she ordered, voice shaking.

"Vala, wait," Sam tried again.

But Vala tried to yank her hand away, and only succeeded in toppling Sam over, so they fell crashing to the sand. Vala choked in a breath, and started striking out again, trying to push Sam away. "Hey," tried Sam, but the first strike hit her stomach, and her breath caught in her throat. She held Vala's shoulders, but another strike hit her, and another.

Vala's breaths were coming in fast, no plan in her actions. _*What now?* _Jolinar asked.

_~I don't know; she's terrified of capture.~_

But that gave Sam the only idea she had, so she just held on firmly to Vala, gritting her teeth as she gripped the woman's shoulder and refused to let go. Vala pummeled all the strength she could into Sam, but her breaths turned into sobs, and her strength faltered.

_*It is catharsis,* _Jolinar said, emotions dawning on her as she could finally breath without being struck. _*She pushed away her fear and hatred, and it manifested as this.*_

_~We're a Quetesh substitute?~ _Sam asked, horror drowning out some of the aching pain from Vala's attack.

_*And we are not responding, not accepting her request to fight back.*_

Vala crumpled on the sand, gasping hard, without any further recourse. Even in the dark and the near-chaos, she didn't try to escape again. Sam loosened her grip, just half sat next to her. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I'm sorry we stole your revenge from you."

"Don't," Vala managed, voice tight, face shadowed by the backlighting of the moon. "It wasn't mine to take. I didn't fight before. I can only run now, but not even—"

"You were running, yes," Sam said, Jolinar's tone bleeding through. "We gathered that."

"I have nothing here," Vala countered, flinging the emotionally saturated words at her.

"So you just run?" Sam asked, almost incredulous. Vala just lay on the sand, silent. "This is ridiculous," Sam continued. Disgust was rising, not for Vala herself, but for something that couldn't easily be articulated, and all Sam knew was that Jolinar felt it first. "So maybe your family is dead, maybe you have no friends, maybe you're just afraid that even this nightmare is too good to be true. But after all we went through to destroy Quetesh, this is what you're going to do with that gift? Run away? And then what, keep running, forever?"

Vala sat up. "I don't have much alternative, do I?" she said, a fake lightness in her voice as she tossed a hand towards Sam.

"Don't say that," Sam said, pointing a finger at her. "You didn't even ask, so how can you know?"

"You are Goa'uld," Vala protested.

"And you know that isn't true," Sam said back. "But even—even if you were so upset, why didn't you just tell someone? Why not ask for help, or even ask for another place to go? Why attack innocent people on your escape as if you were a criminal? Vala, have you thought at all about what you've been doing?" Even as she said it, though, she felt Jolinar appreciate the irony, and her accusation might as well apply to her and Jolinar. And that stung, now that she addressed it.

"I couldn't know if you'd let me go—asking would give away too much," Vala said.

"We're not Quetesh," Sam said firmly, and watched as Vala's defensive stance tightened. "There's no need for trickery."

"But what now?" Vala asked, almost a demand.

What now indeed. The question was uncomfortable for them all.

"You need to figure out what kind of life you want, and then make it happen," Sam said after a second. And then, in not a particularly gentle gesture, just a bold one, she put out her hand to hold Vala's again. "And we're not going to make you do that while you're on the run."

Vala looked at her, all the weight of slavery and exposure to a devious mind clearly hanging as baggage in the back of her mind.

Sam's frustration, more with herself than Vala, she now realized, waned. "Please?" she offered, a little more honest. "Please stop running."

"I hit you," Vala said, with a slight tip of her head.

"I'm not dead," Sam said, and managed a weak smile.

"I didn't want to," Vala admitted.

"Well, if you can help me up, that would be good," Sam said, wincing now that she thought of it.

Vala got to her feet and tentatively lowered a hand. Sam breathed out slowly as she rose, feeling Jolinar already starting on healing the would-be bruises on her torso. Then, in a moment that Sam had not expected, Vala offered her arm. Sam accepted the support; not necessary for her physically, but she had figured out by now that Vala needed to be wanted. So, leaning on her shoulder, they started walking back towards the rings.

"Quetesh is dead and gone, you know," Sam offered as they walked, feeling the ache of the marks of Vala's panic start to fade. "Her kingdom is fallen. You have a whole life to plan."

"I have nothing to even start with," Vala said barely loud enough for her to hear.

And then, Jolinar could identify her sympathy. Memories threatened to flood on her, the first baby steps after a life of tyranny, with nothing she could pull on to help her. Suddenly she could sympathize with a host. "Nothing wrong with a clean slate," Sam said, and in a way it was to all of them.

Vala didn't speak again, but Sam knew what to do for now.

ooooooo

"Team breakfast again?" Jack groaned, but taking a seat at the large commissary table anyway.

"A breakfast of friends, O'Neill," Sha're offered with a small smile, sitting across from Daniel and sitting Shifu on her knee.

Jack glanced around the table, seeing Teal'c, Mckay, and Dixon more fully now. "What's up?" he asked suspiciously.

Daniel didn't want to ruin his meaningless grumpery with something more serious, but it had to be done. "A government agent is being sent to evaluate the Stargate program in a week and a half."

"Again? Isn't that becoming a little cliche?" Jack always managed to keep gravity from his tone, no matter what his eyes said.

"Yes, but so are the disasters that happen on most missions," Mckay said with a frustrated sigh.

"This hasn't been a good year so far," Daniel said. He hadn't added it all up until hearing the news, but it didn't surprise him.

"Earth's still here," Jack protested. "Which given the odds, is quite...something."

"Bureaucrats can't see that far," Dixon said. "They see things like people lost, resources lost, opportunities lost. We haven't made any new allies and we haven't brought back anything important. In fact, most of the things we brought back bit us in the ass."

"What about that Goa'uld thing you did to Teal'c," Jack asked, looking at Mckay.

Mckay's eyebrows rose almost hopefully, but Daniel decided to cut him off. "It only works if we have a hand device or a healing device."

Jack made a buzzing hum for a second. "If they wanted more discoveries, they shouldn't have limited our gate travel," he said.

"Okay, wait a minute," Mckay said, putting up a finger. "Isn't it something that we may know of a group also trying to destroy the Goa'uld?" He glanced at Sha're for reference.

"No, what is something is that we don't even know what this guy is coming here to do," said Dixon.

"I don't like this," Jack said flatly. "I don't care if we get out of this okay or not, I don't like feeling under a constant watch."

"It's certainly not good business," Mckay said, turning his attention back to the breakfast the rest of them had abandoned.

Daniel looked to Sha're for an opinion, but from where she had stood, most of the luck had been good. And maybe something would happen to change the rest of their opinions as well. Daniel could only hope.

ooooooo

"I do not want to stay here," Vala still insisted, even after everything had been explained and excused. "The feel of—everywhere," she said, waving her hand around the back of her neck.

"Naquadah," said Sam, as they sat in the Tok'ra mess hall. "Yeah, I'm sorry about that." And though the more casual tone seemed to soothe Vala more than any sympathy, Sam could remember her own first days on the Tok'ra base, how it had almost felt unsafe.

"I remember my homeworld," Vala said, drawing her gaze away from the quiet surroundings to look at Sam. "Its name at least."

"That's good," said Sam, perking up.

But Vala shook her head. "I have no family there. No one who would trust that—"

_*The Tok'ra know of worlds where former hosts are welcomed,* _Jolinar said. _*They are quiet, simple, out of the way.*_

_~And Vala is none of those. Just look at her, she is itching to do something, she just hasn't found a way to feel safe about it.~_

_*What do you think of Dorieth? Would they not trust our word that she is released?*_

_~Not yet, Jolinar. I don't know what they would think, but Vala certainly isn't ready.~_

"Are you talking to her?" Vala asked, half curious and half suspicious, pointing at Sam's head.

"Yes," Sam said. "Jolinar is a friend, we talk about everything."

"That makes no sense," Vala said with a shaky, dismissive laugh.

"I remember thinking that," Sam said, voice trailing off with the thought.

"Why can I not leave?" Vala asked again, leaning forward. "You have not said."

"It's not safe for you, for many reasons," Sam said. But she sighed, and pushed a strand of hair out of her face, feeling that it was a perverse situation that made talking to Vala easier after they had exchanged blows. Jolinar found that almost amusing as Sam spoke. "Look, Vala, I don't have much more idea than you have. Truthfully, I don't even know what I'm doing. Quetesh—threw off everything, and I'm still trying to align it all back to normal."

Vala closed her eyes, shaking her head shortly. "I know, and I do not want to remember."

"It's okay," Sam said, looking Vala in the eye. And it was true, she had forgotten just how Vala's face once made her jerk away in defense. "I'm just thinking, maybe I'm trying too soon."

"But what else is there to do?" Vala asked, frowning. She looked around. "I will not stay in bed anymore. I have slept enough for three lifetimes."

"Oh god, no," Sam said with half a laugh. "That's the worst. But, you know, there's other things you can do here. I can show you all sorts of things. For one, I noticed last night that your fist was all wrong; it's why your knuckles split." She nodded to the small bandage on Vala's hand.

"And?" Vala turned an eye on her.

"And, we can work on getting you some more defense skills," Sam said. "It's something to fill the time, until we figure out exactly what we need."

"Is that all?" Vala's eyes hadn't exactly lit up, but she hadn't recoiled either.

Sam sighed. "It doesn't have to be." She felt Jolinar right with her as she continued, "But I don't feel like looking to the future anymore. We won a big war, and that's going to have to keep me going for a while yet."

Vala nodded slowly, then looked back up. "Tell me, how did you win the battle?"

Sam smiled; she didn't mind reliving that over and over again. The more she talked, though, the more she felt unqualified and lost. Jolinar eventually pointed out, she was offering advice to Vala that she hoped would work for herself. But it satisfied in the moment; Sam found herself enjoying Vala's company, now that the former host had been pushed to find her voice, and Vala seemed to almost eat up every bit of attention and interest pointed her way.

Martouf and Lantash came through the gate that evening, and found Sam in the mess hall again, covertly telling Vala which were the Tok'ra foods to avoid, and which ones didn't take much effort to taste good.

"Back so soon?" Sam asked.

"Of course not," said Lantash with a shake of his head. "We are only a hologram."

Vala's brow narrowed and she reached out a finger to poke his shoulder. He was perfectly solid, and she made a small dark noise under her breath before picking up her tray again.

"Things must be going well, if you're being teasing again," Sam said, biting back a small smile at the straightforward manner Vala cut away equivocation.

"Well enough; there is much news. May we join you?" Lantash cast a cautious glance Vala's way.

Sam met Vala's look, read the relative ease there, and then nodded to Lantash. They sat at their usual table, Sam pulling an extra chair for Vala to sit next to her.

Lantash had a look that said he was pleased with the day, more open than usual. He also seemed to have more words to say, but paused for a second, meeting Sam's gaze.

"Well?" she asked, taking a bit of her food. Both she and Jolinar had not forgotten the last mission; much as they had been too weary to continue with it, the subject could hardly leave their mind.

"I am thinking if maybe the Council is right after all," Lantash said, still meeting her gaze. "I had not thought so before, considering the good fortune that manifested. However, I now realize that were it not for your schemes, we should never have had to draft contracts between humans and Jaffa who cannot agree on the proper alliance."

Jolinar found herself more interested. "Is it come to that indeed?" Sam felt a moment of pleasure to realize that Vala had not flinched even a moment to hear Lantash and Jolinar speak.

"Most certainly," said Lantash. He sat back in his chair with a light sigh. "And the Council is not at all sure that I—or Martouf, rather—should be focusing my efforts on such a task that does not serve our greater goal. Again, it is your enthusiasm imbued into these people that gives us little other option. The Council might have taken that other option, left it all alone, were it not for my presence in this mission."

"Do you regret now reinstating your status as operative?" Jolinar asked shrewdly.

"Regret, no, reevaluate, yes," Lantash said. He sighed. "Martouf and I both are glad to have a more traditional approach at the end of this mission, or at least traditional for us."

"How exactly has it gone?" Jolinar asked.

"Bra'tac and his Jaffa returned to Chulak, as you might remember," said Lantash, steepling his fingers on the table as he talked. "But they returned yesterday with more purpose. Bra'tac has had a dream of a Free Jaffa nation for many years now, which is more than any of those from Quetesh's forces could say, and even more than Sha're's people who are among the human population. He said that Chulak is already organized, and participants should all withdraw there until everything is settled. But his Jaffa are not inclined to welcome those who are not Jaffa."

"Even after the battle?" Jolinar asked, incredulous.

Lantash vaguely shrugged. "As it now stands, there is some organization on Dorieth among the humans who were formerly slaves, even more on Chulak among the Jaffa, and a random assortment on the world where we assembled, which is now being renamed Calmah Tealc. Bra'tac did speak highly of the humans, though, mentioning others who had aided the Jaffa in the past and proved valuable allies. It was enough that Martouf could convince all of the leaders to agree to be allies. I believe integration would be their wisest choice, but so far it is not looking favorable."

Sam wondered how the Tok'ra would view the outcome of this, in political terms. And she wondered how well these tiny nations could survive on their own after showing such insolence to the Goa'uld. "What of the ships won in the battle?" Jolinar asked.

"That is a difficult point," Lantash said with a slow nod. "But one thing which has been resolved is the entire population involved in this revolution. The Jaffa held in prison on Dorieth were given the news of what happened at Selenis, and then the sight of the multitude of Jaffa standing free gave them the final push to wish for freedom. Also, some humans from Dorieth made their way unbeknownst to us to another world, a breeding world as they called it."

Sam and Jolinar listened even closely, but from the corner of their eye saw Vala shrink momentarily, casting her eyes downward as if not sure she wanted to hear more.

"It also has been freed, due to a resistance already set in place by some of Sha're's people held there," Lantash said. He paused, a slight grimace on his face. "There was some difficulty given how many lives were lost, including many Jaffa. From that world, only a few have turned to join Bra'tac and the others."

"This can't go on forever, though," Jolinar said with a frown, surprised and pleased, but worried at the same time.

"No," Lantash said in firm agreement. "Which is why I returned here. The momentum must halt on its own soon, but Martouf and I believe that you giving your opinion on the matter would make it easier and sooner. Which is needed, given how little organization is set up."

Jolinar nodded slowly. In a quick assessment, Sam saw no problem inherent. It would be a short matter, something necessary given how they and Vala now stood. "We will do that," Jolinar said aloud.

"Does it not feel odd to you, separate so long from a mission that has been nearly all your work?" Lantash asked. "It feels odd for Martouf and I, as if we are coming in on the tail end and managing only small official business."

"It is not something I would be comfortable with," Jolinar said, short and honest as she looked him in the eye. "The negotiation."

"So I might have guessed," said Lantash with a small smile. "Shall I see you tomorrow then, on Calmah Tealc?"

Jolinar nodded.

Lantash glanced around the mess hall, though for no apparent reason. "Martouf is telling me that there are other things that call us, though honestly, I think both of us would prefer to spend the rest of the evening with you."

Jolinar gave him a short look, holding back as much of her smile as she could. "Come now, go, take care of yourselves. I already have company."

"So you do," said Lantash, smiling at Vala, who was now looking up again.

"Oh," said Sam, coming quickly to the front. "Vala, this is Lantash and his host Martouf. Martouf and Lantash, this is Vala Mal Doran."

"It is an honor to see your true self," Lantash said with a slight head nod.

Vala nodded back. Then Lantash excused himself from the table, and Sam turned back to Vala. "I was planning to show you the firing range tomorrow," she said.

"I cannot shoot," Vala said with a slight crease of her brows.

"Yes, I hoped I could teach you," Sam said, tipping her head. "It's something well worth learning. And, well, it's something I do sometimes when I am frustrated and don't know what to do about it. But you could figure it out on your own, I'm sure."

Vala didn't say anything for a second, then something in her eyes cleared. "Yes," she said. "If it is allowed?"

"There are training weapons," Sam said. "Besides, you can't try to escape again until I have a chance to see how natural your aim is."

"I believe I have very keen eyes," said Vala, the hint of determination in her tone more playful than not.

"That works, then," said Sam.

Vala gave her a small look that Sam couldn't read, neither smile nor frown, then shook her head and continued eating with a more pondersome one.

_*She is not like Sha're at all,* _Jolinar said.

_~We don't need a Sha're right now,~_ Sam answered, as she took another bite of food. _~And she didn't need us, and that's a good thing. This is about Quetesh, and about finishing off that last little bit she has over us, and Vala too. Jolinar, this is what we need to be doing. Wiping every last influence out.~_

Jolinar could think of a few questions relating to that, but she didn't ask them. No point in it. Deep down, a wound still festered; they and Vala had had too high a price exacted from them. Even with Quetesh gone, they had to convince themselves that it was over.


	75. Forestalling

**Chapter 74 - Forestalling**

Calmah Tealc gave Sam and Jolinar a thrill, walking through into its safe fields and buildings. It was one of the few habited planets like it, and to Jolinar at least it was worth the cost to make it so. Sam savored the grass that tickled her feet through her sandals, felt the sun through the cloud cover, and the difference was welcome.

Both Nirishi and Creot had arrived from Dorieth that day, and Kronon soon joined them. Home-made tunics unlike the ones they'd worn as slaves adorned them,

"You cannot understand the power that is now in our hands," Creot said, gesturing to Sam with wide eyes.

"No, not really," Sam said honestly. "But shouldn't you be focusing that power, not exulting in it? Pride goes before a fall."

"So it does," said Nirishi with a rise of one eyebrow. "You are wise, Devret."

_*For giving a cliche from your world...well, it helps our point.* _Jolinar's tone stayed ironically light, though.

"But we can send the Goa'uld cowering in fear," Kronon protested.

"Fear is not good in this case," Sam said, shaking her head and facing all three of them. "They have the numbers to crush you; if you back them into a corner, make them afraid, they will strike out with all they have left. For now, let them think you a small victory."

"I am not so sure that will succeed," Nirishi said cautiously.

"That's also true," Sam said, sighing. "But focus on defense and maintaining good structure and alliances."

She saw slight nods, and thought that would be good enough. "May I see what you have so far?"

Jolinar was not surprised that Kronon had much less desire to do so, and much less loud zeal overall. _*The Jaffa are proud, if nothing else.*_

_~Yes, but I keep thinking that surely they'll open their eyes.~_

_*Some have. Not all.*_

But those thoughts faded as they walked the streets of Calmah Tealc, and Sam spoke of roads and civilizations and the need for the former as well as running water. She felt frustrated that she didn't know more, and Jolinar worried about the Tok'ra ability to help, since all their society revolved around technology that they could not give or teach.

Some things were already in place, though—rationed supplies divided equally among all people, persons set up to be magistrates for small concerns, and a census already underway.

Still, Jolinar feared that they could not accomplish enough before conflict destroyed them, somehow. Sam remembered her own history of the United States, and decided to put her hope in the scrappy but motivated innovators on the turf they'd won.

Near the middle of the day, however, as their mission seemed done, Jolinar saw Inchen approach her.

"May I have a word?" he asked, and the enthusiasm was less than usual.

"Of course," Jolinar said, worried lines around her mouth.

"It is Abydos," Inchen admitted, looking her full in the eye. "And all our people, who are not yet gathered and accounted for."

Jolinar almost stepped back a pace, as the implication hit her then. "Certainly," she said. "It was our plan all along to return you to your home-world." But they'd forgotten that in the alliance of more than just Abydonians.

"All of us here have too many concerns to do the work," Inchen said, face lightening a little at her assurance. "But if you can merely find them out, perhaps we may bring forth the issue of Abydos to discuss."

Jolinar nodded. Inchen put out his hand to her arm and bowed his head in thanks, hurrying back to his work now that he had her promise.

_~Do you remember, this was why we got in this position in the first place,~ _Sam said, connecting the past six months in that moment. _~Just rescuing Sha're led us all the way here.~_

_*And they barely need our help anymore, which is some relief to me,* _Jolinar said. _*Do you think—is it possible that Vala might join us in this task? They may recognize her, but they are so close to us that I do not think she would be in any danger. I think Vala is ready for it.*_

_~We'll see,~ _Sam said, as Jolinar made her way back to the gate.

ooooooo

"Dan'yel, have you seen Rodney?" Sha're asked, peeking into Daniel's lab in a Jack-ish kind of way.

"Uh, no," Daniel said, pausing to look up at her. "What has he done now?"

"Well, I shall find that out once I find him," said Sha're. "He has Shifu."

"Oh," Daniel said, with a blink of shock. "Why would—what made you choose him?"

"I did not have time to find you this morning, if I wished to avoid lateness, and he was the first person I saw who I could trust."

"Oh god," Daniel muttered, with a slight smile that was yet apprehensive. Then, he looked up again. "What would you be late for?"

"My final meeting with Dr. Mackenzie," Sha're said, smiling broadly. She stepped into the room, hands half spread. "He has cleared me for my new position."

On Daniel's blank expression, she gasped, a little color rising to her cheeks.

"Oh, I had forgotten that you did not know," she said with a half laugh. She came over to him, eyes alight. "I am now an official SGC intern, Dan'yel."

"Oh—r-really?" Daniel said, caught off guard both by her words, and by suddenly noticing the SGC patch on her previous patch-less BDUs. Her hair was pulled back in a knot at the base of her neck, too, and she looked professional.

"Yes, really," Sha're said, smiling and resting her hands on his arm. "Shifu and I spent so much time with Jean as she worked on the—naquadah therapy, I think she called it? I learned much, and she said I had a good mind for such work. Your people had me seeing Dr. Mackenzie for 'acclimation' visits, and so I asked him if I could be cleared to work here, so that I might have something to better fill my days."

Daniel was admittedly distracted by the glow in her face, making her look like a true goddess to him, but he wasn't sure he understood her words. "You've only been here two and a half months," he offered, confused.

"Yes, it is true," she said, still smiling down at him. "But according to him, I have overcome 'culture shock' much faster than he would have imagined. He believes I am fit to work in a learning capacity, and though I did expect him to say that, I am glad to finally have it said. But you look at a loss."

"I am lost," Daniel admitted. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, rubbing there for a second. "So—you can work here now?"

Sha're laughed quietly. "Yes, that is the core of it."

"You know, you don't have to, you aren't required to," Daniel said, suddenly worried for her motivation.

"Dan'yel, you really have not understood," Sha're said, tipping her head to one side. She leaned a little closer, a smile quirking her mouth in a bow. "I wish to do it. I asked for it. I am a part of this world now, but I did not have a work—now I do. I may even work for you, if you need it," she added at the end, with a dance of one eyebrow.

Daniel bit back a little smile. "Good, good," he said, bringing his other hand to rest on hers. "I feared for you, sometimes, in this strange place. I am glad you have found a place."

"I will always find a place," Sha're said, contemplative for a moment. "I always promised myself that. But this place was prepared for me—all those nights on Abydos when you told me of your home, of carts that moved on their own, of writing on every wall and chair and wrapper around food. And then Sa'm, when she didn't even know that I listened closely to every word she spoke of Earth. Her father too—him I could ask questions, make notes in my mind. By the time I got here, Dan'yel, it could not seem all that strange."

"And so that's your goal, blending in here?" Daniel asked curiously, turning in his chair to face her better.

"Mm, I think I like science," Sha're said, a smile of imagination on her face. "Better than history, I am sorry. I like atoms."

"And I'm sure they like you back," Daniel teased. "And Shifu? Shall he be staying with me more often?"

"No more than before," Sha're said, standing up as she remembered her child. "Janet showed me a baby chair that will allow me to rock him with one foot while I sit or stand, and even if he demands to be held, I may yet work my mind. It will be of no issue."

"You have no idea how wonderful it is to hear all that," Daniel said, squeezing her hand as she prepared to leave. Even as all might be crumbling around, Sha're still found the good luck.

And as she went off to find Mckay, it was yet another reason to hope that the luck of the SGC itself would hold.

ooooooo

"I have something you might want to do," Sam said, reporting back to the Tok'ra base and Vala. "It is offworld, out in the fresh air, and it is helpful."

One of Vala's eyebrows rose, but she said nothing.

Then, Sam felt the urge to say more, put more meaning into her idea. And Jolinar didn't object, letting Sam take the lead. She sat down next to Vala. "I knew another person who the Goa'uld took. Her name was Sha're, and Amonet took her for a year."

She was surprised, though, to see the mask drop from Vala's face. The other woman's eyes seemed startled.

"The Tok'ra helped her, like you," Sam continued. "But Quetesh kidnapped her people from their planet, and so Jolinar and I said that we would help free them. It wouldn't be the same as helping Sha're be free of Amonet, though, so we couldn't tell the Tok'ra High Council."

"You lied?" Vala broke in, clearly not happy with this. She sat up straighter on the bench in the hallway where the talked.

"No..." Sam said slowly, wondering if she could make the distinction clear to Vala, someone so fresh back to the world that every morality was black and white. Jolinar almost found it refreshing, just not at the moment. "Everything we said was true, from a certain point of view."

Vala bit her lip, however, and frowned.

"Well, what mattered to us was that Sha're's people were our responsibility," said Sam. "It's why Jolinar and I fought Quetesh." Strange, though, Jolinar pointed out—those were Jolinar's thoughts, and Sam hadn't been so easy to accept them in the beginning either. Sam wondered why she brought it up, though, and continued to speak to Vala. "And now—they're all scattered among her worlds, and they've asked for our help in gathering them together. If all goes well, we can return them to their homeworld, and Jolinar and I will have fulfilled our promise."

Vala gave a slow nod, the frown fading.

"And, we were thinking," Sam started, slightly hesitant, "that this is laying to rest Quetesh for good. All the problems she caused, we'll put to rights. At least, symbolically. You deserve the chance to do that, if you want to take it."

Vala glanced up at Sam. "It is a little close, isn't it?" she asked, a hint of pain on her face.

"The Abydonians are an amazing people, Vala," Sam said, putting her hand on Vala's knee and looking her in the eye. "They have spirit and good will, and will not treat you as anything but yourself, not when it is all explained. It'll be a good kind of close, closure I hope. And I'll be there the whole time—that's the point. I'd kind of like to have a partner, actually."

"I had guessed that you worked alone," Vala said, the pain gone from her face even though she absently twisted her hands in her lap.

"Well, we can, Jolinar and I," Sam admitted, tipping her head.

_*Alone?*_

"It's not really alone," Sam amended. "But yes, it can be nice like that. Just...I thought you might be interested."

Vala gave a laugh then, a dry one, but still a laugh. "Some day I will find such things for myself," she said, with a hollow smile.

"I would hope so," Sam said, her own voice on the verge of a chuckle. She smiled, her eyebrows slightly raised as she waited for Vala's answer.

"But I am interested in fresh air," Vala said, and she nodded her head towards Sam.

"Good," said Sam, able to sound bright after hearing such an admission. She'd learned not to push Vala for more than this. _~Just like dealing with you, almost.~_

_*Hmm,*_ was all Jolinar's comment, but she didn't deny it.

Now that she and Vala were past confrontation, there was less walking on eggshells. Sam didn't know how anyone could deal with that on a regular basis; she was just not born to be a trauma counsellor. But she could be supportive, and the sparks of strong will and quirks she saw in Vala made her want to see more of them. Maybe this mission would bring out the true person who had almost been lost. And also, it would almost be like teamwork, and that was a constant that Sam didn't want to lose.

Jolinar had a moment of worry for the Abydonians, as they prepared to leave in a day's time. Of all the worlds where they were known to be, it was possible that some of them had not been freed in the chaos. They might have to sneak in and break the Abydonians out. Sam doubted that it would be a difficult task, given the elapsed time, but even if they merely had to gather them all together, the mission would take serious thought.

Sam helped Vala with her clothing, then. The woman was nervous about her appearance, understandably. Jolinar knew the feeling all too well, and Sam had the recent past to recall. They found a more billowy tan robe, something designed for a sand world where sand upon skin would grate. It did not even hint at what Quetesh had tried for, though, so it was an accurate choice. Sam found a scarf of a slightly more silky fabric, though still the cream tan color, and when Vala had wrapped it tightly around her hair, she looked in the mirror and the corner of her lip quirked up.

"I'm still a little surprised at how much there is to find here, for a group so devoted to war," Sam said, commenting on their dress. She herself was going in a dark linen dress, equally flowing but more styled. Jolinar smirked in her head, but they were both a little surprised to see Vala's hint of a smile at it too.

_*No, you were quite right about this,* _Jolinar said. _*This mission is going in the right direction; we can all feel it, and it improves the mood.*_

The morning after that, they were quite ready to ring up to the gate freely, and have Shan'ak open a wormhole to Calmah Tealc. The time difference only accounted for a few hours, and it was a good day on the other side. Sam breathed out, relaxing, just as Vala breathed in deeply. Sam had forgotten that she'd seen little but crystal walls for many days now, and Quetesh had not been outdoors often before that. The sun did her an immediate good.

And then it was to business. Vala had little to say, just kept to Sam's side as she spoke to the people she needed to. The introduction was short, and as Sam had promised the Abydonians barely gave a start at the two-woman team who was helping them.

By the end of the day, Sam and Jolinar and Vala had talked to as many of the Abydonians on Calmah Tealc as they could, and had gone to Dorieth to find the rest. Vala was quieter on that world, and even Jolinar could sense more tension as they moved through the crowds. But that night they sat around a torch fire, and talked over what they had heard.

"For the most part we're in luck," Sam said. Somehow, it was nice to have a reason to speak aloud, rather than just in her head. She'd probably spoken more in the past two days than whole weeks before; the more they talked, too, the more Vala seemed to relax. Jolinar assumed that it was an appreciation of openness, and Sam had no reason to object. "Shumnan, the breeding world, is the first obstacle. I'm not sure when they'll be ready to interact fully with the other worlds. The flagship is being transferred to the Tok'ra home-world, so we'll have to contact them in a couple days. Dorieth has the majority of them, and those who were on the ships have mostly settled on Calmah Tealc."

"What of Runya?" Vala put in, pointing to one of the notes on Sam's datascreen.

"Yeah, that might be an issue," Sam said, and scratched her head. "We've only hearsay that the few who were sent there are still there, so it would require a quiet mission. Get in, find them, get out. There might be resistance, though really it's the getting out part that always has problems." Jolinar sighed, concurring, in her head.

Vala didn't have the basis for understanding, looking curiously to Sam. Sam swished her hand in Vala's direction, and explained. "There is always only one exit, the gate. You never know if you've been tipped off, or if the guard's changed, until you get back to it. It's bad enough on your own, but when you're helping prisoners escape..."

"And you do not take precautions, because the Tok'ra have limited resources," Vala said, nodding, starting to understand the more Sam talked through things. Jolinar had noted her swift mind first, and guessed that seeing evidence of it was what endeared Vala to Sam now, and had not in her early recovery. However, the recollection made Sam feel a little guilty, and so Jolinar did not dwell on it.

"That's always the problem, isn't it," Sam sighed, and looked into the flames.

"Can I?" Vala asked then.

Sam looked across the fire to her. "Can you what?"

"Be a precaution," Vala said. "There is no point in you taking on such a risk, not when I can stay hidden by the gate and keep you informed." She tipped her head. "At least, that would seem logical."

"Of course it's logical," Sam said, with a bit of a smile. "I didn't realize it would be possible. You would do that?"

Vala glanced down at her hands, then back to Sam. "This is the first day that these hands have been mine to use to give, not take away. I don't want to abandon the feeling."

"We'd never say no to help like that," Sam said. "And you can have a radio and camouflage and everything—yes, it should go well if we have that."

Vala just looked back into the fire and smiled to herself.

_*Isn't it always like this, the mission being exciting, and the clean-up not so much? Even this task, we had to make into a mission before it became interesting.*_

_~Well, yes, a little,~ _Sam said. _~If you know all the variables, what's the point? That's engineering, not science.~_

_*It is not war either,* _Jolinar said.

They had not created the uncertain situation here, however. Risk was simply a required element. This time, it would be nice to have more certainty, no matter what happened. Going solo got tiresome after a while.

ooooooo

"What is it now?" asked Jack with resignation, as SG-1 arrived to the tune of the unauthorized incoming wormhole klaxon.

"If they knew that, it wouldn't be unauthorized," Mckay snarked quietly.

Jack let it stand, being that Hammond was there.

"No iris code," the technician offered. They all watched from behind the glass as the blue light prepared to emanate from the gate, even as the iris closed.

Daniel noted that Teal'c had brought his staff weapon, just before noting Mckay inching closer to the control panel. If it weren't for his need to be involved in everything, Daniel had no doubt that Mckay'd be perfectly suited to controlling the stargate himself.

And then, the iris opened, and the wormhole looked naked.

"I did not give the order to open the iris," Hammond blustered sharply at the technician.

"And I didn't open it," the technician answered, hands rising innocently. He swiftly brought them back down, though, pressing the keys to close the protective barrier. It barely responded before opening again.

Mckay now stood directly behind the technician, as Hammond said firmly. "Get that iris closed!"

Daniel watched the wormhole, but then heard Mckay all but snap at them, "Oh that's pointless, the computer is just overriding it!"

Then Daniel stepped forward, knowing it was too late. "Um, guys?" he said, looking down at the ramp and the wormhole. "General?"

A small person had arrived through the gate, clad in simple brown and with a hood over its face. It didn't look like anything Daniel had seen before. It didn't move as the SFs pointed their weapons, and Hammond and SG-1 moved swiftly down to the gateroom itself.

Daniel couldn't help after all this time to have a bad feeling about it, even knowing nothing. They stepped forward toward the extremely short person who'd forced its way onto their doorstep. Daniel noticed that Jack had his hand on his sidearm, Dixon following his lead.

They both jerked the weapons audibly as the person pulled back their hood, revealing the face of a small bald boy-child. And then, Daniel assumed, they all must have felt silly. But how...what...?

Hammond didn't waste time. "He needs to be searched."

"Teal'c," said Dixon, not turning his eyes from the strange child. "That naquadah treatment you got...it would work here too, right?"

"It would indeed," Teal'c said in a low voice. The other SFs in the room kept their distance, guns trained, as Teal'c walked forward. Daniel watched him bend closer to the child and say in a rather soft voice, "What are you called, child?"

The boy didn't answer, nor did he shy away from Teal'c. After a moment, Teal'c stood up straight again, towering over the boy. "He is neither Goa'uld nor Jaffa, GeneralHammond."

There was a sense of cautious embarrassment for all this fuss, especially as the boy simply stood in his surroundings, hands at his side, eyes wide and innocently blinking. But they had to know—

"What is he, then?" Dixon asked, frowning.

The boy simply opened his mouth, and said calmly, "I am here to warn you."

Once again, Daniel's feeling was all too accurate.


	76. Organization

**Chapter 75 - Organization**

"_Be cautious, two Jaffa came and then went,_" Vala's voice had come over the Tok'ra communicator.

Sam, herding the ten panicked Abydonians she'd rescued, had nodded to herself. Avoiding the road, she'd pulled them through the woods, arriving at the gate from around the back. At the sound of rustling, Vala had spun in her hiding place, gun drawn and eyes sharp. "Oh," she'd said on seeing Sam, and then had run to the DHD to dial back.

With a slight eyebrow raise, Sam had sent the Abydonians through after Vala and had pulled up the rear. On the other side, Vala had given her a small smile, and Sam had tipped her head and responded. It had gone well.

Vala had learned surprisingly much in her few short weeks of freedom, and that day at the firing range must have been productive. A bright light shone at the back of her eyes, and she cradled the gun as a precious tool.

"Are there any more worlds to storm?" she'd asked, pushing back a hair that had come loose with a lightness that Sam and Jolinar both recognized as the high of success.

Sam had been required to answer no, but Vala just nodded. It had been enough for then.

With only a few things left, Sam and Jolinar and Vala dragged themselves back and forth to put it all into place. As Jolinar talked to the leaders of the Jaffa/Dorien alliance about Abydos, Vala counted each and every Abydonian, still scattered across several worlds. Sam had paused to wonder if they realized that she was Quetesh's host—her bearing, clothing, everything about her was just different enough that Jolinar thought that maybe they didn't. Especially given that she'd taken to Jolinar's former style of slicking her hair back to a knot at the base of her neck, wearing a leather band to keep it firmly in place.

"Even before the flagship arrives, we have not found them all," Vala said quietly, fingers fidgeting as she frowned and flicked wood chips into the fire around which they sat.

"People die in war," Jolinar answered.

Vala looked up, brow taut. "I do not want war."

"You will not have to see it, then," Jolinar said. "But this is the aftermath."

Vala rose and turned away, walking off into the evening. And Sam had known that she couldn't follow her. You had to learn to accept loss, it didn't come naturally. The next morning, though, Vala had been ready to be busy again, and even had a kind of cheerfulness.

The most difficult negotiation was the defense of Abydos. In the entire day and a half when there was nothing else to do but wait for the last few Abydonians from the flagship, Sam and Jolinar had found their day entirely full of arguing with the leaders of the other worlds. They'd taken their advice too well.

"We cannot spread ourselves so thin," said Alma, a non-Abydonian woman on the Council centered at Calmah Tealc. "If those people wish to return home, we do not begrudge them it. But no more."

"You would lose their influence then," Jolinar protested firmly. "And remember who inspired you to this freedom. Do not curse the hands that helped you."

"But we have barely enough to keep our own planets safe, and though that is partly due to Jaffa stubbornness, it is something we cannot negotiate further," Alma continued, with furrowed brow and a slight bitterness in her tone.

"Abydos is one of your own planets, whether you say so or not," Jolinar said strongly. "Believe me, a unified front will count for just as much as adequate protection. You need Abydos."

In the end, though, Sam had to come forward and sit down, going over all the details of planetary defense. She reminded them that with ships, they could bury their gates, thus eliminating one set of dangers. As there had been plans to modify cargo ships to serve as guard towers to the gate, something Sam thought quite ingenious and something to be proud of, this revelation did add to the resources for orbiting defense.

"Abydos wouldn't need much, given how few Goa'uld are aware of its presence. Everyone will know of Quetesh's downfall, given the circumstances; Apophis abandoned Abydos with quiet, and so it's relatively secure." Sam adjusted the simulation on her handheld Tok'ra device, and showed it to Alma. The woman frowned, but had no apparent answer.

When she reported back to the Council, it took only a little further debate before all was agreed. The Abydonian leaders were brought in to sign a treaty, and Sam, Jolinar and Vala gated to the world where Quetesh's flagship would be arriving.

ooooooo

"Well, that changes things," said Dixon, looking at the scorched computer.

It wasn't the first time he'd said it in the past day. It was one thing to discover that the boy wasn't a trap, despite his iris-opening techniques. It was another when he seemed to know too much, and had told them of a faction of an alien race called the Re'tu who wanted to destroy the Goa'uld by keeping them from taking hosts. Earth was in danger again. Of course, the boy had also claimed that he knew all this because of his mother, who was both invisible and able to open the iris. They'd protested as long as they could...until "Mother" showed them her reality.

Hammond called an immediate meeting.

"Theories?" he asked SG-1, sitting sober around the table, looking at the computer that Mother had destroyed.

"Um, the alien is real?" Mckay offered, raising his hand in a sarcastic imitation of insecurity.

"And that solves the Junior problem, too," Dixon said, nodding to Teal'c. "I guess the little guy doesn't like Re'tu."

"So they are not totally invisible," Teal'c said.

"Well wait just a minute there," Jack said, raising a finger in protest. "If you know the enemy is there, but can't tell what they're doing, what's the point?"

Mckay frowned, then tapped the table and snapped his fingers. "They can interact in our reality, which means they're just shifted, phasically speaking."

"Phasically speaking," Jack said, an eyebrow raised.

"Are we able to see into other phases?" Daniel asked curiously.

"No," said Mckay, as if that was obvious. "Not unless we were in them ourselves, or what was in them shifted to ours. This isn't like a different light spectrum, Daniel."

"So we can't just send some kind of interference, disturb their phase so they come into ours?" Dixon suggested, with a hand movement reminiscent of dragging and shaking something out of the sky.

Mckay rolled his eyes—then paused. "I have no idea," he said.

"Well, since they're planning on destroying Earth's stargate, which may I remind you all, happens to be where we spend most of our time," Jack said, "I think we _should_ know that."

"Do we have any other defense?" Daniel asked with a frown.

"They come through the gate," said Hammond. "We can further restrict gate travel, though our offworld teams are an unavoidable risk. Dr. Mckay, I suggest you and your colleagues speak with the boy "Charlie" and his mother about how we might detect these other Re'tu."

ooooooo

"They are almost ready to demand that the Tok'ra leave them alone," said Martouf with a slight eyebrow raise. He had joined Sam and Jolinar and Vala for that evening's meal off-base. "And I believe the Council can scarcely be more in line with their feelings. We have involved ourselves too deeply already."

"Well, we'll start the removal back to Abydos tomorrow," Sam said. "Today was difficult enough, though." She glanced to Vala, remembering how the woman had violently refused to approach the flagship. And given the state of the slaves who had survived being constantly under the power and whim of Quetesh, Sam sympathized.

"And after we have given all the information we have about business matters and treaties, we may wash our hands of this new civilization," said Martouf. "I shall enjoy a rest once it is all over."

"So it will be back to the Tok'ra base soon?" Vala asked, looking up from her meal.

"What else?" Sam asked. She assumed it was rhetoric.

"Nothing, of course," said Vala, her smile just shaky enough around the corners to be noticeable.

Jolinar didn't like how much shielding Vala still engaged in, and didn't like how difficult it was to tell if she was truly interested or putting on a show so as to be left alone. But Sam reminded her, it had only been a few weeks. A few weeks after over twenty years' captivity. They couldn't push. And Vala did appear genuine as she offered to play checkers with Sam, as the evening grew dull. With Martouf standing over her shoulder to give her hints, some of which seemed to make her laugh and glance at Sam, she managed to clear quite the board before Sam finally won.

The next day, however, stood out strong. They'd all spent the night on Calmah Tealc, for ease's sake, and rose in the morning to finish the mission.

All counted, Vala had reported, there were 843 Abydonians who wished to return to Abydos. This included Kasuf, Nirishi, Inchen, Creot, and many others they'd known through the entire rebellion against Quetesh. Seeing just how many influential leaders for the free peoples had been among them, Sam was glad to remember the treaty only recently signed.

As they gathered by the gate, all their belongings in hand, a few deathgliders flying ready to go through first and make the last assurance of safety, Sam and Jolinar gave them one last look-over. Many had come through with little scathing, bouncing back with the earnestness of Sha're herself. Others clearly hid their damages, remaining quiet but insistent. And though it hurt, seeing only a few barely functional after their ordeal came as somewhat of a relief.

The sun hung high in the sky when the organization was complete, and the gate was ready to be dialed. The leadership of the Free Peoples had assembled for this, as it seemed to be an official function, and the Councilmembers of each world gave their farewells to the Abydonians.

_*They have grown,* _commented Jolinar.

_~There's something to be said about the way the galaxy does that, no matter how low a starting point you come from,~ _Sam answered proudly. _~They may fake their way through these first few months, but they have the structure to keep them intact.~_

Finally, the attempt at formality came to a close, and as she had asked to do the honors, Jolinar walked up to the DHD and pressed the symbols for Abydos.

"Recall," she called out to the first Abydonians. "Do not move quickly, and do not loiter about the gate. There is only so much time before the gate closes."

The blue kawoosh followed her words, and then the gliders flew through with a sucking sound. After a moment, Jolinar's communicator twinged with the buzz of their confirmation—Abydos was safe and ready to hold its people again.

Jolinar walked through the gate, and as she came out on the other side, a warm afternoon baking the golden sand past the ruins in this temple, she felt a rush of satisfaction. The Abydonians started pouring through behind her, and the noise slowly grew into a rush of excitement that bounced off the sandstone walls and reverberated out to the very sands themselves.

Though only 30 minutes passed before the people finished streaming in, Sam and Jolinar felt as if months of guilt and worry had been wiped away. Already, people had begun digging up the tents buried in the sand, and shoving aside the rubble in the temple.

"This will be our monument to all we stand for," Nirishi told Sam, standing in the gate room and looking upward. Her lined face seemed to glow in the light of her homeworld, golden brown shadows barely visible on it, dark brown eyes glistening with proud emotion. "And as soon as our ships arrive, we will construct a coverstone once again."

Sam smiled and nodded, swallowing a little at the remembrance of Daniel's original plan on this planet. But though she had a few more things to check up on, Abydonian night had only barely approached before she realized that it was over. It was time to leave them in peace, mission accomplished.

She and Jolinar climbed the sand dunes back up to the temple, headed for the gateroom.

"Wait," she heard calling from her left as she reached for the DHD. "Wait."

She turned to see Kasuf. "What is it?" she asked, frowning.

Kasuf bowed a little to her, waiting a second to speak. "We cannot thank you enough now that we are returned," he said. "But though it is a shame that it has taken so long to remember, the rest of our brethren are not here."

Sam paused. It was an important observation—the SGC had moved the other Abydonians, apparently, perhaps considering this planet a danger.

"Will you help us contact them?" Kasuf asked. "My daughter—all of them."

Sam swallowed, the thought hitting her all of a sudden. "You mean through Earth. I—" _~We promised Sha're, we promised ourselves.~ _Jolinar had nothing to offer. "I shall look into it," she promised.

Kasuf nodded, and Sam dialed the gate.

The thought waited at the back of her mind the rest of the day. Martouf was going over the final treaties and agreements, and she had only one hour to wait before he was ready to give his last farewell. Vala stood by her side as she watched, quietly waiting.

At last, however, Martouf approached with a small, weary smile. He nodded to Jolinar, who was at last able to dial the address for the Tok'ra homeworld. They walked through, leaving behind them the alliance of Jaffa and humans that they had helped create. They might as well have spread Quetesh's ashes to the wind, so little of her influence remained.

And yet, Sam and Jolinar's mind was too active to be proud. They had another concern yet.

ooooooo

Daniel hadn't ventured down into the science area of the SGC since the briefing about Charlie and Mother. Shifu had developed a slight fever, and so Daniel's tentative plan to relocate with his family to a hotel until the Re'tu threat was eliminated had been crushed. Janet insisted that Shifu remain under constant attention, given his young age. "Not even five months," reminded Janet with a raise of her eyebrow.

"This time, I am assured, this place will be safe," Sha're said, taking her shift of watching the child who wept miserably through the headache that seemed to accompany the fever.

Daniel realized that she had correctly diagnosed the worry on his face. He nodded slowly, taking a moment to rub her back and kiss her hair. She leaned into him, comfortably warm herself, only a little tension in her back muscles. He kissed her again on the temples before leaving to find a cup of coffee, planning to make the most of the slight reprieve before it would be his turn again.

After a stop at his lab, he felt a need to make sure of all the fors and againsts that related to Sha're's insistence that they would be fine. Like her, he had adopted the idea, not so much because he thoroughly believed it, but because he needed to. And there was enough past evidence to make it worthwhile.

Jean Miller and Chloe Dorris had joined together in one lab, Chloe almost taking the part of Sha're as Jean's mind flitted along a hundred different ideas. Daniel had heard what he thought were the voices of Clare Tobias and Jay Felger, and presumably other scientists were forming odd partnerships as well as they could. But he caught sight of Mckay before he'd passed Jean's lab, and they both turned into it.

"Rodney, there you are," said Jean, looking up with an only barely frazzled expression. She walked over in a few short steps, stretching out her hand. "Hold this."

"Why?" Mckay asked, hands stubbornly at his sides.

"I want to see if you waver," she said. "Come on, I would hardly want to do anything to you that might put you out of commission; we'll need you to find a solution."

She was honest, but the form of flattery prompted Mckay to hold the battery-shaped object in her hand.

Jean narrowed her eyes and looked at him. Daniel too, not sure what he was looking for.

"It tingles," Mckay said flatly.

"That's...good," said Jean, tapping her finger against her lip. "Hmm."

"Why didn't you let Dorris do it?" Mckay asked, suddenly seeing the other woman.

"Oh, it has to be aligned with your DNA," said Jean, waving her hand as she grabbed the battery thing back.

"You used my DNA?" Mckay protested, following her across the lab.

Daniel felt surprised but intrigued.

"It would take too much energy to disrupt an entire section of reality," Chloe explained, as Jean frowned over her notes. "Much harder to direct energy to a random area. We're hoping that if it has a focus, we'll be much more successful."

"In doing what, exactly?" Mckay asked, arms crossed.

"Hampering the frequencies that tie one to one's own phase," Jean said without looking up. "What were you thinking?"

"I was working on trans-phasic energy beams," Mckay said. "No success. I thought you'd be going at something similar enough to be useful; after all, you did grow up with my ideas."

"Oh please, I was into science before you," said Jean with a slight eyeroll.

"No, no, not now, please," Chloe intervened before Mckay could say anything. "Phase breaking, that's our job."

"Here, let me look at those notes," Mckay said, scooting into his sister's desk.

Daniel was almost about to ask what Chloe thought the proximity of success was, when he heard a familiar sound behind him.

"Dan'yel," Sha're said, walking in with whimpering Shifu in her arms, "where did you put his fresh diaper?"

"Oh," Daniel said, remembering. He frowned and put a hand in his jacket pocket, pulling out a white cloth.

Just then, a loud thump sounded from below them. Everyone paused. And then the SGC klaxon sounded. Not an incoming wormhole—a dangerous base presence.

"Oh god," Mckay said, frozen.

"What do we do?" Jean asked.

"I don't know yet," Daniel said, heart now pounding. "But try the phone." He reached to his side for the weapon he most often carried nowadays. "I'll get bearings."

"And I'm locking the door behind you," Chloe said, eyes wide but holding herself together.

Remembering that Sha're and Shifu were now stuck there, Daniel didn't object. He hadn't planned to rush out like this, but something told him that he couldn't hide, not yet.

"_Daniel, do you hear?"_ Jack's voice sounded sharp over the radio that they'd been required to wear at all times.

"Yes, what is it?" Daniel said, fumbling a little to shuffle the gun to his other hand so he could answer.

"_Re'tu, through the gate as SG-9 came in. We don't know where they're headed, but the report is that Charlie said they'll go for the source of power, so probably Level 25. I'm on Level 27, headed that way. But there's a chance that they'll head for the surface too, try to find escape routes to block, so no level's safe."_

"I'm on Level 19, I just left Mckay and Miller and Dorris locking up their lab. What do we do?"

"_Take cover," _ordered Jack. _"They don't have anything to help, do they?"_

"Not yet," Daniel said, heart sinking a little as he realized what that meant.

"_We need to stop them here, bottleneck them if we can," _said Jack. _"They aren't used to civilizations of our level, and we're pretty well set-up for defense. We may even have a couple days, depending on their fighting style. Get back to them, I'll tell Hammond, and for god's sake just keep at it."_

Daniel could only nod, and put the radio back in its holder. He'd walked halfway across the level, and turned to go back. Apart from the alarm, he didn't hear any noise. The rest of the labs must have gotten in touch, given how all the doors were now locked.

The Re'tu had breached the SGC, and apart from Teal'c and Charlie's Mother, they had nothing at their hands to affect the situation. Sitting ducks, Daniel thought, as he got back to the right lab. He grabbed his keycard, about to slide it in, when a shot sounded behind him.

He spun around, holding his gun. "Guys," he called through the door.

"Daniel?" he heard Mckay, muffled through the door. "Something in here's affecting the radios."

The corridor was empty.

"We're pretty screwed," called Daniel, as he waved his gun back and forth, not sure if he should open the door yet. "The Re'tu broke through."

Then another shot flamed at the wall close to his head, and he ducked, swearing under his breath. He could almost think he saw something, but a clamoring noise from the other end of the level, the sound of footsteps and slamming doors, distracted him in a moment. Then he saw a flash of something, and felt a force push against his chest.

Daniel slammed back against the door, head cracking against it, as something pushed the air out of his lungs. He crumpled to the floor, a groan escaping. The back of his head started to throb.

"Daniel?" he heard Mckay again.

But he barely had enough time to bring his hand up to the back of his head, as the noise down the corridor grew, and actual gunshots were fired. His hand came back bloody, and the world went dark before he could sense anything else.


	77. Conflicts

**Chapter 76 - Conflicts**

Even with the nagging question of the Abydonians, Sam and Jolinar joined with Martouf and Lantash for the first part of their Tok'ra briefing, listening and then offering more information. It became clear just how much the Tok'ra Council had agreed to this out of necessity; unlike any number of other possible alliances, the Free Peoples had both reason and experience to battle the Goa'uld directly. Had the Tok'ra not stepped in, their entire plan might have been dissolved by a random attack.

Now that things were as settled as they could be, the Council seemed to just nod and prepare to forget about it and move on. They'd lost the services of two operatives on this mission, not to mention resources and time and secure information.

Once Martouf had finished his story, the Council approved and dismissed him. Sam and Jolinar, however, were asked to stay.

"Given that your part in this effort was not exhausting, in the end," Garshaw offered, "the Council would like to offer you a mission that, though coming soon, we think you would be best to handle."

The statement hung in the air for a minute.

"What?" asked Sam, astonished.

"Your next mission, should you choose to accept it," Garshaw repeated, a slight wrinkle in her brow at Sam's reaction.

_~Wait, aren't we—weren't we—~_

_*They, like us, forgot, or so it seems.*_

"Actually," Sam said aloud, slowly, "we need at least a day to judge our readiness for...anything."

Garshaw nodded. "Then you may be dismissed until then; return once you are prepared."

Sam turned and walked out of the horseshoe-shaped Council room, feeling confused and a little shocked. _~This is it, isn't it? We actually finished our mission.~_

_*And if we forgot that it was supposed to be our last, is it any surprise that so did they?*_

_~I wasn't even thinking about it ending, not really. But now what?~_

They'd barely gone more than a few paces when Vala approached them, face looking earnest in the soft tunnel light.

"What is it?" asked Sam, with trouble drawing her mind from the surprise of the briefing.

"Can we talk?" Vala asked, bending her hands rather awkwardly as if she couldn't keep them still.

"Of course," Sam said, managing a smile and indicating the nearest bench.

Vala sat in a hurry, turning a little to face them. She tried an awkward smile. "Now that things are quiet," she said, unable to know that for them it was not, "I don't know what I'm supposed to do. You've never been clear on that."

"Uh, well, we never had anything," Sam said, with a slight apologetic grimace. Jolinar felt even more that their planning had left out a lot of details in a lot of different areas.

"No, I could guess that," Vala said, barely rolling her eyes, though just in obviousness not in derision. "But I remember—I remember you said that you had a friend like me."

"Sha're?" asked Sam, blinking a little.

Vala shrugged hesitantly. "But it's true?"

"Yeah, yes, it is," Sam said as she settled a little more into her seated position, thinking.

"Where is she now?" asked Vala, and held Sam's gaze.

"Back on Earth with her family—my homeworld," Sam amended.

"Your people would accept her?" Vala asked.

"Oh, that's not the problem," Sam said, with a slight chuckle that almost reached bitterness. She ran her fingers through her hair, sighing. "That's all they're concerned about, saving hosts. They kept trying to save _me_."

Vala frowned but said nothing about that. She looked up at Sam. "Can you take me there? Anywhere away from...naquadah...and strange judgments." She laughed awkwardly. "Nothing against you, Samantha, I just need that."

Sam swallowed the lump suddenly rising in her throat as Earth was once again brought to the forefront of her mind. "I was just thinking about that," she said quietly. Jolinar felt hesitant, not sure where Sam was going. "I'll get back to you," she finally said, looking at Vala.

"Thank you," Vala said in a short, quiet voice. She flashed a tight smile, then rose and walked off, leaving Sam and Jolinar alone again.

Sam didn't move from the bench. She leaned over, resting her face in her hands. _~Oh god, I wasn't ready for all this.~_

ooooooo

"Dan'yel? Dan'yel?"

The words pierced through Daniel's hearing, and he would have winced if he had the strength, so sharp did they hurt.

"I can't get this idiotic system working—why is it not digital, for god's sake?"

"We know what we have to know, Rodney, give it a rest! We need to work on a solution."

"For what?"

"Don't yell like that! We'll have something—just focus."

Daniel groaned as the voices drove into his head, giving him no rest, and yet clearing his mind of the heavy fog around it.

"Dan'yel?" He was aware enough to recognize that voice, as he'd recognize it anywhere. "Oh, Dan'yel, are you awake?"

Daniel couldn't remember why he had lost consciousness, just that the last thing he knew, he was standing in a hall and hearing that the Re'tu were invading. "Mm," he managed, trying to open his eyes.

A soft hand touched his face. "Dan'yel, hold still and relax. You are wounded."

"Really?" he managed to get out. He didn't want to move his limbs.

"Oh, he's awake!" He recognized the panicky voice from earlier as Mckay's.

Finally, Daniel blinked his eyes open, and the bright light only hurt slightly less than the sharp voices. He lay on the floor of the lab, propped against a wall. Mckay and Jean stood by their lab table still, as Chloe held Shifu. Sha're knelt next to him, worry contorting her face.

"What happened?" he murmured.

"You were thrown against the wall, and we heard and came out to get you," Sha're said.

"You've at least got a concussion," Mckay said, looking apologetic. He walked over a few steps, wringing his hands a little, then snapping his fingers as he turned back to Jean. "Wait—wait—I think I got something."

"Your head was bleeding, but we stopped it," Sha're said, still focused on Daniel. "Do you hurt anywhere else?"

"My elbow feels swollen," said Daniel, grimacing as he tried to get past the headache to focus on the rest of himself. "But I think I'm intact. Any news?"

Sha're shook her head. "None. Communication is down in here, but it's probably just static."

"Well, I can't go anywhere, I guess," Daniel said, frowning. "What are we going to do?"

"Rodney?" Sha're said, looking to the scientists over at the lab table.

"Hmm?" Mckay asked, looking up?

"We need a plan," Sha're said. "There is no point in all of us staying in here until you and Jean have a plan."

"Yes, but what can we do?" asked Jean, pushing her blonde curls out of her face.

"Look, I should go find O'Neill or Dixon or someone," Mckay said, gritting his teeth. "I'm on SG-1, I sort of have a responsibility."

"No, no," Sha're protested, standing up and shaking her head. "You are no good at fighting, Rodney, and do not protest because even if you were, you are much more useful in here. You need to work with Jean, find out how we can see our enemy."

"She's got a big point, Rodney," Jean said.

Daniel had to nod, too, and Mckay didn't seem to object much.

"But you are right, we need to contact the rest of the base," said Sha're, crossing her arms for a second.

"It's just like that training day," said Chloe suddenly, rocking Shifu in her arms. "The first thing we need to do is shut down the gate, if it hasn't been done already."

"Of course," said Sha're, nodding. "Here." She took Shifu and walked back over to Daniel. "Dan'yel, you cannot move from here, but hold Shifu. Rodney or Jean can help you if you need it."

"Why?" Daniel asked, confused as he accepted Shifu into his good arm. Thankfully his son was only passively whimpering, not full-out screaming.

Sha're took out a pin to pull her hair back fully from her face as she knelt by his side. Then she grabbed the sidearm from his belt, and the keycard from his pocket. "Chloe and I will go make contact with our people," she said, mouth in a small tight line. "And defend our home, if necessary."

"Or take out the power, maybe," Chloe offered, standing close. "Wait—we're going out there?" Her voice rose in pitch a little.

Daniel frowned, but Sha're had already stood up and walked back over to the lab table, slipping Daniel's gun into her waistband. "Rodney, Chloe will need your weapon, please."

"Are you sure about this?" Jean asked, frowning. Mckay just stood, looking a bit in shock.

Daniel frowned, but even with his head throbbing, this reminded him too much of that first couple days on Abydos to worry him. Especially after all that had happened.

"Well, we are trained for this," Chloe said, but her voice trembled and her hand wavered as she took Rodney's gun.

"There is nothing else to do," Sha're said. She nodded to Chloe. "You will not need your lab coat."

Chloe slipped out of the white coat, and then, in only their green BDU pants and black shirts, they checked their weapons for ammo.

"You have radios, right?" Jean asked. "In case we get this fixed?"

Chloe nodded, biting her lip. Sha're put a hand on her shoulder, then glanced back at Jean. "We are ready. Work hard, please."

And with that, she listened at the door for a few seconds, then opened it and, leading with her gun, walked out into the hallway. Chloe followed a few steps behind, and then the door shut and locked again.

"God, I hope they're okay," Jean said, frowning.

"Well, we can help with that if we get a move on," Mckay said, and turned back to the lab table, pushing aside a few papers.

Daniel still sat propped against the wall, feeling a little more alert with every minute. He looked down at his son in his arms, tired and sick, and hoped that Sha're could help with this whole mess.

ooooooo

Jolinar had not expected Sam's emotions to be so confused, and she took the moment of indecision to remove back to their quarters.

Sam felt like something was wrong, given the lump of panic that seemed to form as soon as a return to Earth was mentioned. It didn't die down quickly, though, and she worried. _~All this time, we knew the mission was ending, but why didn't I make the connection?~_

_*Very likely because of this fear you feel now,* _Jolinar answered, trying to maintain a sense of emotional stability, even though her own feelings threatened to match Sam's, or at least be influenced by them.

_~But when did I start—why did I—did you have any idea?~_

_*I have only felt what you felt; I didn't even think that your thoughts had grown very far from your old home.*_

In the dark and quiet of their chamber, Sam felt her mind starting to pick at the confusing emotional pieces. _~Okay, so it wasn't just a surprise to me; everyone failed to assume that I'd try to go back now. Now that I have evidence that they would accept, all amends made. Which is my fault, but I didn't expect it to just happen. I'm actually afraid to go back to Earth.~_

_*I am sorry,* _Jolinar said, feeling a sort of aching that she didn't completely identify.

_~I don't think there's a reason to be sorry,~_ Sam admitted. Back in control, she sat on their bed, knees brought up and hands resting gently on them. _~Not for us, at least. I mean, I think I just realized, I don't think I really can gain back their trust. Even with the Abydonians to vouch for all that we've done, even after these months of Sha're telling them her story. Maybe it's more my issue than theirs; maybe I can't get over the fact that they believed a Daniel from a different universe but they couldn't believe me.~_

She swallowed, the fear curling in her stomach not lessening, even as she started cataloguing it. _~And if I went back, I don't think I'd ever believe that they assumed things were okay. Any breakthrough I made, any advice I had to offer—they might think it suspect, given that I was compromised. And they might not say it, so I'd never know whether to feel secure. It could be paranoid, I don't know, but of all the things in my life I want to be trusted.~_

Jolinar's emotions and thoughts were strangely restrained, but at that she let loose a wave of sympathy.

_~I don't know why I'm talking so much,~ _Sam sighed, but she let herself absorb Jolinar's sympathy. _~I just don't think I can go back. And after everything...I can't resent the fact.~_

The thought wasn't comfortable to her. And though Jolinar wasn't pushing, she knew that she'd have to follow it to the next step. She'd repressed so much, she was frightened of herself and bringing it all out. Even though something small within her told her that it would only bring her a feeling of freedom. For a moment, she held on to the repression.

ooooooo

Jack had no time for thinking as he stood, cornered on Level 26, Re'tu somewhere around the corner and ready to fire at him. He needed to get the power shut down. He needed to kill the Re'tu. He needed this to be a bad nightmare.

One of his men was already down, just wounded but sitting now behind the corner with him. Jack gritted his teeth and prepared to fire around again. It would help if he knew that his shots would make it, but oh well.

Where was the rest of the base, though? Hadn't they all been told now? The idea that other Re'tu might be in other areas did occur to him, just not as quickly as the idea that they could have at least _called in_.

The corner provided only the barest protection as he aimed some random shots—he thought he saw one ricochet off of thin air, but had to withdraw his head as the energy blast hit the wall across from him.

"Am I not dead yet?" Lieutenant Roberts asked him, sounding vaguely groggy as he clutched the wound in his shoulder.

"You and me both," Jack said sharply through his teeth. "Hell's great, isn't it?" He decided to bite the bullet and grabbed for his radio. "General? What the hell's going on, and why isn't there radio chatter?"

"_We're a bit busy, damn it," _came Dixon's voice over the radio, before Hammond's.

"_More Re'tu holding the upper levels,_" came in Makepeace's next. _"Not that it matters, right?"_

Okay, okay, so there wasn't a point in them all radioing in, unless things changed. What were the Re'tu here to do, exactly, apart from the ambiguous "sabotage" that Mother had mentioned?

He heard steps down the hall behind him, human steps. Without moving his gun, he spun his head in that direction, and was surprised to see two guns peek around the corner.

Oh god, of all the reinforcements, I get the idiots, he thought. Then he saw a dark-haired head poke around, and before he could realize it, Sha're Jackson and one of the scientists dashed around towards them. Clad in BDUs, they looked as much like soldiers as anything he'd seen—and that was a specially weird look on Sha're.

"Oh Jack," she said, eyes lit up even with her face serious, as she joined them at the corner. "I am so glad to have found you."

"Where's Daniel?" he asked, confused. He glanced back around the corner, listening just in case.

"Injured by an invader," Sha're said, and he noticed she was breathing a little hard. "Chloe and I needed to see what was happening—our communications failed to work."

"Damn it," Jack muttered under his breath. He didn't need this distraction.

"Has the gate been shut down?" Chloe asked, eyes wide in her round face.

"No, that's the problem," Jack answered, leaning against the wall. "Roberts here," he nudged the wounded soldier at his feet, "got himself shot, and that one Re'tu can hold me off."

"What are they doing?" Sha're asked, frowning.

"Who knows, exactly?" Jack answered.

"Well, we can help at least," she continued, looking Jack in the eye with determination he found surprising.

"Er?" he answered.

"You're not serious," Chloe protested in a low voice, looking at Sha're with a slightly gaped jaw.

"We need to shut that power down," Sha're insisted, looking back at her odd-couple partner. They didn't cling to the wall like they were hiding, something that impressed Jack for a second.

"Yes," he said, "but there's a bit of an impasse here."

"Let us help you distract the Re'tu," said Sha're, facing him squarely. "It cannot shoot at all of us."

"You're insane," Roberts said, looking up at the three of them. "It'll kill you!"

"You're not soldiers," Jack said, brow wrinkled.

"We don't need to be," Sha're said pointedly. "And Chloe can shut down the power, she has done it before. You will hold this position, and we will get past."

"No, you'll get killed, and then Daniel will kill me," Jack protested, not liking how the desperation in him was starting to make this idea sound good. It hadn't been that long, but they were at such a disadvantage, it felt like they were rapidly running out of time.

"Dan'yel is not here, and so he does not matter," Sha're said flatly. "Come Chloe, make sure your weapon is armed."

The two women looked away from Jack, and so he swore under his breath and prepared to give cover fire. In the wide SGC corridors, maybe they would have a chance. He didn't know. Both women were small and lithe, so at least they'd have a better chance of dodging than Jack.

Grinding his jaw tight, Jack held his weapon, counted to three, and turned sharply around the corner. Sha're and Chloe darted past him as he opened fire, and they ducked beneath it, charging straight down the corridor as they hugged the wall. Jack had a flash of adrenaline as a Re'tu blast came from nowhere to swipe by his ear, but only one—it seemed to be distracted.

"Take that, bastard!" Jack snarled, pumping his weapon into the area where the Re'tu seemed to be.

Then, just as Sha're and Chloe seemed to get past, and around the next corner—he ducked back into his own hiding. They were on their own now, and god, he felt a bit of after-the-fact horror at sending them into it. What kind of leader was he?"

"_Colonel O'Neill,_" came Hammond's voice over his radio.

"Yes, sir!" he answered neatly, grabbing at any distraction.

"_Any luck?"_

"Not sure, sir, they seem very resilient," Jack admitted.

"_We finally had contact from our top scientists, and they're stuck on the problem. They might have a solution, but they don't have all the equipment necessary."_

"Damn," Jack said, but not in his radio. "What then?" he asked.

"_It may be our chance of stopping the Re'tu,_" Hammond said. _"But not only is it untested, but we would have to hamper our defense positions to gather the things that they need._"

Which meant that it might be useless, or worse, and definitely time-consuming.

"The Re'tu aren't doing anything particular yet, that we can see, right?" Jack asked.

Just then, though, he heard a loud winding down of something. The lights flickered.

"They did it," Roberts said, surprised. "They shut down the gate."

But Jack focused on something else, and that was the scurrying sound he heard round the corner. The Re'tu hadn't liked that, and this one was on the move. But the scurrying was headed away, and this time Jack moved around the corner for good, firing into what looked like nothingness ahead. The bullets fell clinking harmlessly to the floor.

"Sir, the gate's down, but the Re'tu from my position has gone up towards Level 24," he reported.

"_Affirmative,_" Hammond answered.

"_And holy crap, we've got movement up here, headed up levels,_" Makepeace's voice staticked across the airwaves.

"_They're heading for an exit,_" Dixon's flat voice came next, and Jack knew it was true the moment he said it.

"Why?" he asked sharply, as he darted down to make sure that Sha're and Chloe were accounted for.

Just at that moment, though, he heard muffled explosions, more than one, and the whole base seemed to shake. He put a hand out, and leaned against the wall, heart starting to pound as if trying to escape from his chest. The lights flickered, went out, and in the darkness he heard deep cracks and groans and another muffled explosion.

Jack could have sworn a thousand times to himself. The Re'tu had sabotaged the base, and now needed a way out. Holy shit, the SGC was sabotaged. Before the emergency lighting kicked in, all Jack could consider was just how screwed they were.


	78. Options

**Chapter 77 - Options**

Jean gave a squeak of surprise as the lights went down and the room around them shook violently. She gripped the table, grappling for the delicate equipment, as Rodney all but dove for cover.

Daniel's heart clenched as he held Shifu closer. The babe gave a single high pitched cry when it all went dark, and squirmed to turn towards Daniel's chest.

"Holy crap, we're all dead," Mckay said in a breathless but doomed voice.

"They did it, right, they got through our defenses?" Jean asked tightly, as the loud boom faded and left only dull metal creaks. "Now what?"

Some long dark seconds went by before a flicker of low light came, and the emergency generators started to hum. Daniel tried to breathe slowly, for his sake as well as Shifu's, but this was the very definition of worst case scenario.

"They wanted to take out our headquarters, then get up to an escape route," he said aloud, looking over to the two scientists. Head still throbbing, he could at least think, even if it wasn't seeming good. "They aren't going to go back through the gate, but they don't plan on dying yet either."

"So we're going to keep them trapped here until we can kill them?" Mckay asked, astounded.

"Trapping ourselves in the angry tiger cage while we dash around looking for the tranquilizer dart we know is in there somewhere," Jean said, sighing and leaning over the table.

The building around them shook again, and Mckay's eyes darted back and forth. "We are all so stuck," he said, voice panicky and eyes wide.

Daniel's heart pounded as it dawned on him just how close Earth was to being attacked by invisible aliens who wanted them all dead. And he couldn't move. The need to protect had never been so strong in him, and he could do nothing.

"Rodney, stop it," Jean protested, voice shaking a little.

Trying to take deep breaths, Mckay almost darted across the room. "Phone's down," he said, hanging up the receiver he'd just grabbed.

"_All teams please report in," _came Hammond's voice over their radio.

But Daniel knew what the answer to their report would be. Keep working on a solution. As Mckay reached for his radio, Jean had already started straightening the mess on the worktable. They still needed other pieces to make this work, if it would. But it had to, if they were to make it through this intact.

"You may have to take it to the parts, instead of the other way around," he said, as the idea dawned darkly on him.

She glanced up, confused for a second, then realizing what he meant. "That's manageable," she said with a sigh, then got to work. "But what about you?"

"We'll deal with that when the time comes," Daniel said, closing his eyes and hoping he'd hear an update from Sha're. This was not the way he planned to go out, but there might not be a choice in the end.

ooooooo

Jacob, Selmak, they would help, Sam had decided. She was getting a grip on this situation, but something told her that it shouldn't be her alone. She took the walk to their quarters slowly, though, still speaking with Jolinar. As she laid out her predicament, something had popped into her mind that she needed to explain and confess.

_~I think...I think, Jolinar, that I may have fallen in love with Martouf and Lantash.~_

_*Was I not supposed to notice, or were you expecting a comment on it earlier?* _Jolinar said, and her surprise was plain, not for Sam's declaration but for her belief that it had to be stated.

Sam colored sharply at that, realizing just how far she had let it go. _~I didn't mean for it to happen,~_ she said quickly.

_*Oh,* _said Jolinar, catching quickly onto the subject. The fact that Sam had kept it as private as she could had left some of the details out. _*I am sorry, then, I just assumed that you were aware and—I did not think it through.* _Sam caught the unspoken words, that it was something that blending influenced.

_~No, you don't need to apologize,~ _Sam came back quickly, walking a little faster as she wished Jolinar would stop her flush of awkwardness. _~I guess I just, after a while, unconsciously maybe—I guess I just assumed that nothing was going to change. I let myself relax, reach out.~_

She stood almost at Jacob and Selmak's quarters, with those words hanging in the air. Jolinar was hesitant, trying to read which words went with which emotion in Sam's mind. _ *What does that mean for you?*_

Sam swallowed and approached the doorway, deciding not to give an answer at that moment. Jacob was in control, and beckoned them in as he stood up and approached to give a hug.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, his smile hesitating for a second at the sight of her face.

"Probably not, I don't know," Sam said. "Can we sit and talk for a while?"

"Well of course not, can't you tell that we are in the middle of something very important?" Jacob teased, indicating the near-empty room.

Sam managed a half smile as she took a seat. "We're a bit confused."

"I would never have been able to guess," Jacob said, looking her straight in the eye with warm humor, and the weight of loving concern behind it.

Sam let her hands clasp in her lap to keep them from flailing about, and Jolinar wasn't offering her anything to start with. She'd have to address her thoughts again, be open. This was so important, she couldn't even begin to start without hesitation.

"The Council wants us to go on another mission," Sam started, looking her father squarely in the eye and letting the words hang.

"And?" he prompted, face neutral.

Sam's brow creased a little. "And, we hadn't planned on that." Jolinar was trying not to bring back those memories, even as Sam also managed to focus on the present. But there was so much history, and she wasn't sure if Sam wanted to remember it.

Sam didn't see understanding in his face until something changed, and Selmak came forward. Then, the dawning seemed potent. "Now I remember," Selmak said in a low voice. "This is problematic, I see."

"I thought I'd be going home now," Sam admitted, leaning forward on her knees. Jolinar didn't exactly flinch at that, but something struck her wrong. The wording, maybe—but analysis wasn't her strong suit. Sam continued, trying to express her thoughts, because surely she needed this. "It was always just temporary, until the mission was done. Now it is, and I don't know what to do."

"You still wish to go home?" Selmak said, and when Sam nodded he answered with another nod. "But you don't think you can?"

At this, Sam had to bite her lip, shake her head a little. Jolinar felt something uncomfortable rising and started trying to block herself off, but Sam didn't want that. "That's the problem," she said aloud. "I'm not sure I want it that much. And—and I don't understand why not. How can I just think about giving up all my friends, my work, my culture? Have I become such a coward?"

Selmak's eyes seemed piercingly perceptive, and Sam saw no confusion on his face. "You consider staying with Jolinar an option, even though it was not the original plan."

It wasn't to spare Jolinar's feelings that Sam answered quickly, "Yes."

A moment of silence hung as the weight of that impressed itself on them. What it actually meant, though, Sam still didn't know. It seemed all just out of reach, just like Jolinar was now trying to be. She couldn't help with this, and after all this time, that seemed new and uncomfortable to both her and Sam.

"Let me tell you something, Sam," Jacob said, as Selmak retired for a few seconds. He leaned over, putting a hand on Sam's clasped ones. "Kid, this conversation shocked me more than it should have. Since Selmak and I got together, I think I kind of assumed that you and I were staying like this. At least, it wouldn't have been a surprise to me if you had come out and said that."

"I know, I think I kind of felt that too," Sam admitted, smiling wryly.

"Well, don't dismiss that," Jacob answered, nodding and looking her deep in the eyes. "You were comfortable, content, with things as they were. Think carefully before you decide that you want something else."

Sam's fear started to rise a little, even as Jolinar quietly listened. "But Earth."

"You don't have to forsake it altogether, it's not entirely either/or," Jacob said, with a slight nudge of his head. "Maybe you can go back, no matter whether it's to stay or not. That's diplomacy, it can be handled at any time. You could have both worlds, if it works out well. But where do you think you want to belong?"

Sam sat for a second, not sure what to make of it. Maybe he was right, maybe she could find a way to go back to Earth for a visit, or two, or more. Maybe if they would just trust her enough, she could see them, satisfy her longing. But she had thought she needed that atmosphere, the science and the military of her home-world. So young, so fresh, so energizing. She _had_ thought. Now? Now, as she considered it at last, she realized that it would involve leaving Jolinar.

And that meant finding a new host. As Sam remembered their search, remembered all the faces they'd seen, she felt a sudden distrust and worry. How could she let anyone like that be so close to her Jolinar? How could she condemn Jolinar to that?

_*I would survive,* _Jolinar protested, even if it came flatly, as if trying to hide some other emotion.

But at that moment, Sam realized that she would feel jealous, and concerned that her replacement couldn't understand. And hurt that Jolinar might just forget her. Sam knew then that she couldn't forget Jolinar. She didn't want to. She was too protective, too attached, too close. She loved her too much now, more than any idea of Earth.

_~Why does that scare me?~ _she asked in her mind.

ooooooo

"_We've lost structural integrity on levels 11, 15, and 23," _Hammond's voice summarized after all the messages had come in.

Jack sighed and looked around what he could see in the emergency lighting. He wouldn't say for sure, but Level 25 didn't look so hot either. Any moment he expected the walls to buckle, and the reddish lighting just made the smoke from the bombs cloud his vision.

"O'Neill?" Sha're's voice came to him from down the hall, from the generator room.

"Yeah," he managed, stretching a little from the tension of holding still as the explosions boomed around him. It was too much like war, not something he wanted here. "All fine here."

"So are we, we think," Sha're said, coming out of the shadows towards him, Dorris following.

"Something fell off the generator and hit my head, but I'll be fine," the scientist said, and even though her voice was high and wispy, Jack's eyebrow raised a little. No toothpick this one, she had gumption. That was all he was looking for at this point.

"We've got a foothold situation," Jack said, drawing his mind back to the crisis, his brows tightening together. Shaking his head a little, the two women became soldiers in his mind. "They're going to try to take out the rest of Earth if they can get there, but they're not going to. Now, we're way down here, and main way's probably blocked, but there are ways around, got it?"

"Will we have time?" Dorris asked, eyes wide in the near-dark.

"There's no timetable that we know of yet," Jack said, jaw tightening. "They're bugs, they may not even have watches. For all we know, we could have a long-term situation on our hands. All that matters is Earth safety. I like this planet, and don't want these Reeses pieces getting their invisible hands on it. The only invisibility I'm interested in is from the Fantastic Four, got it?"

"Possibly," Sha're said, slightly confused by his references, but shaking it off in a Teal'c fashion.

Chloe Dorris nodded.

Jack got ready to go back for Roberts, and grab what weaponry they could. "Come on, let's move. Be quiet and be ready to shoot."

He felt weary as he marched off to war again, but he was damned if he wasn't going to stick it out to the end—theirs or his. He'd request that it be theirs, at every chance he got. With some nice bullet signatures.

ooooooo

After taking a break to eat with Jacob and Selmak, playing a quiet chess game to ease their minds, Sam and Jolinar both knew that they couldn't sleep that night until something had been decided.

Sam felt weariness in her body, and took her time to fully savor each sensation of the hot bath they took. Focusing on the soft smells, the ripple of the water on her skin, the pleasure-almost-pain of the heat that flushed her skin, it didn't seem so daunting.

Slipping into the green silk robe that Jolinar had picked out before, she twisted her wet hair out of the way and made the walk back to their chamber. She sat on their bed, feeling soothed and comfortable and peaceful. Her heart's pace jumped just a little, though, as she noticed how deliberately quiet Jolinar was being. They had both done it all day, but Jolinar more than Sam. Sam had the feeling that she was trying to spare Sam the emotional impact.

Sam's weren't much different, she thought, but they were less deep and more fleeting. And she had to address them now, if she wanted to sleep without tossing and turning. Letting Jolinar take control after she leaned back against the headboard, closing her eyes to the near-dark of their crystal chamber, she let her mind unfurl further.

_*This habit of yours, to dissect every situation and explain it to yourself,* _Jolinar said quietly, absently arranging the blanket on the bed as Sam prepared to think deeply. _*It is more comforting than irritating now. I thought you should know that, before you add yet another bit of guilt to what is on your plate.*_

Sam paused for a moment of separate reflection, noting how controlled Jolinar was, wondering what her reaction would be and whether surety had her behaving as if she was already at peace. But then, they were both tired, and none of this was new.

_~Well, Jolinar, I think I should first say that I think I'm closer to you than I've ever been to anybody,~ _she said in louder thoughts. _~My surprise is a bit ironic, seeing how we've been literally in each other's heads for the better part of a year now. Seven months now, god! I don't think I have a problem saying that I'm bonded to you now. That part's easy; not that you are, to live with I mean, but it's not about that in the end. I didn't think it would happen, but all the crap we've been through has been a kind of refining fire, I think.~_

Jolinar nodded slowly, looking at the crystal pattern on the far wall. _*And I have been glad to build this bond with you, even if the circumstances have been unfortunate.*_

_~I'm—I'm not used to thinking in these terms,~ _Sam said next, not as smoothly. But she was trying to keep her calm and not get too emotional, and it was mostly working. _~But if I can't think of how I'd live without you here, I think my only option is to...stay. Forever, or however long I'll live with you.~_

This time, it was Jolinar's impulse that had their heart racing. _*You are sure of these feelings?*_

Sam sighed to herself. _~Yes, I can't interpret it any other way.~ _Even though it seemed anticlimactic compared to the traumatic beginning—a kind of settling, however willing.

Yet for all that they had been holding back, trying to stay objective, Jolinar's emotions rushed out then in a tidal flow of relief and love. Sam could have laughed, it was so strong, burying her in its power—laughed, not smiled, because this was Jolinar. And when part of you is so affected, what else is there to laugh at your own absurdity, in a sense? Acknowledging what they'd both known for weeks felt sweet and warm, something to curl against and revel in the security.

Jolinar brought her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them, closing her eyes and exhaling as she and Sam found their first moment where they truly admitted what they were. Two beings inhabiting one body, to souls bonded together by more than just physical reality. It was a kind of love that friends strove to reach, but almost never could—and it felt like pure joy

Sam let herself drown in it for a few seconds, her emotions feeding into physical feelings. It had her feeling more and more drowsy as she couldn't help but smile, feeling Jolinar with her the way it was supposed to be from the beginning. _~Okay, that should be enough for tonight,~ _she said, tone quiet and humorous.

Jolinar felt the urge to yawn and then gave one of the few real smiles Sam had ever witnessed. _*Let us not even think of what else is left, then,* _she said, sinking back into the pillow. She closed her eyes for a second, then slipped out of the robe and under the blankets.

_~What do I call you?~ _Sam mused tiredly, as the familiarity of the trappings of sleep reached for her. _~You're not just a friend, you're not like a spouse, not a sibling either...symbiote doesn't cover it.~_

_*We are Tok'ra,* _Jolinar answered even as it all started to go pleasantly dark. _*You are my Tok'ra, I am yours, if you care to see it like that.*_

Sam just hmmed one last time to herself before they fell asleep. It wasn't over, but she was happy with what they'd done so far.

ooooooo

Jack could hear the gunshots above him as he tried to squeeze through the entrance to Level 23. They'd gotten turned out of their way on Level 24, going towards the wrong entrance first and then meeting up with someone leaving Level 23.

"There's no point, it's all blocked going up," the lieutenant had said, looking panicked and grungy.

"That's not an option, Lt.," Jack said sharply back at him.

"There are four of us, surely we can make a way," Sha're said, as a heavy sound seemed to shake above. Hammond had ordered radio silence in case of emergency or extreme situation change. All they knew was that it was all about keeping the defense status quo until the scientists reported in.

"It'll take hours," Lieutenant Gorman protested.

"We've got hours," Jack growled at him, pushing at his shoulder and starting to press forward. And it was true—until the Re'tu got out, they would be running in circles until someone died.

ooooooo

"This is it, this is our only option," Jean said finally, hours into the night. Only a few moments before she'd had to shake Daniel awake, and lost a few minutes worrying that he needed to see a doctor. But Mckay had called her back, and she managed to make him disappear with their device. Only for a few seconds, but it was something.

"Except we can't get DNA from every Re'tu attacking this base, even assuming it works with them," Mckay answered back, wearily. "It's idiotic."

"People are _dying_, Rodney," Jean snapped, slamming her hand down on the table.

"I know that," he shot back with heat.

Daniel's heart clenched; he hadn't heard the news of any deaths, but it would have been inevitable. Thank god that Shifu had fallen asleep, sniffling through his dreams, and Daniel could focus his worry.

"You know what we're going to do?" Jean said, grabbing her equipment in her hands.

"No, no, you can't," Mckay said, darting around the table to her side as he apparently seemed to understand. "They're still in quarantine on Level 16, you'll never get there."

"Mother is the only Re'tu on our side, and she's willing to help. If this will work at all, it has to work like that," Jean insisted.

"How are you going to get there?" demanded Mckay.

"At the moment, I'm considering using you as bait," Jean snorted. "Rodney, don't just dismiss it because it's a long shot."

"If it doesn't work, we'll have to come back here, and assuming we survive it just means that the Re'tu might know what we're up to," Mckay argued, pointing his finger straight at her face.

"Yes, it's called trial and error," Jean said.

"Are you ready for the error?" Mckay asked.

Jean just nodded quietly, dark circles appearing prominent on her eyes. Mckay seemed to swallow, and then grabbed more equipment from the table, not even muttering under his breath.

"You don't have weapons," Daniel offered. "There's an armory a few halls down."

"Right, thanks, Jackson," Mckay said, finding a bag for their equipment.

Even with the rest, Daniel was still feeling as if part of him was out of all of it, his head still hazy. "Good luck," was all he could offer.

They closed the door behind them, and left him alone with his son. The world spun again, and all he could do was focus on staying awake. Whatever happened, he wouldn't know.

ooooooo

"It's hot," Chloe informed as she jerked her hands back from the fallen girder blocking them from maneuvering over the damage in this section.

"Shit," Jack muttered.

"What kind of explosives did they use?" Gorman asked frustratedly.

There was a fumbling sound, and they all snapped to attention, reaching for weapons. Not a Re'tu, though, just settling rubble a few feet off.

"We've got to get through this," Jack said darkly. "Strip your BDUs, use the jackets to get through."

"All the fighting's going to be up near the top, near escape routes," Gorman said under his breath as they strained at the girder.

"And we'll get there, eventually," Jack said.

"What about food?" Sha're asked then. "It's the middle of the night, but we can't last forever."

"We'll figure that out, all right," Jack insisted, pointing back to the girder and the rubble that his knees would not appreciate scrambling over. "Level 19 will be chock full of secret stores of scientist snacks, I'd bet, if all else fails."

"Oh yes, because that's normal defense procedure," Chloe muttered as they grunted as the metal finally shifted.

"And since when is defending the planet normal?" Jack said through clenched jaw. "It goes with the badge, Dorris."

But as the night was wearing on, Jack felt aches and pains of exhaustion start to come on them. It would have been nice for the attack to come in the morning, at least, like in all the movies. And it would be nice if he could keep a light focus on events even as facts became darker. Two civilians and a young lieutenant needed encouragement in the hours to come, and Jack needed to play sarcastic wit for them. And for him, before he went darker than he was prepared to go.

ooooooo

Hammond had been accompanied to the control center, where somehow his aides managed to restore two camera feeds, and were almost ready to broadcast different radio signals to aid in communication.

Reports were coming in fast and heavy, even though he had tried to limit contact. The Re'tu didn't have high numbers, as far as they could tell, but their hearty determination had him scared. Even when the black hole had threatened him, it hadn't been this frightening. This was an unknowable enemy.

And it was one who had damaged this building. He'd never expected that, rather anticipating either complete destruction or nothing. He heard the reports of his people darting about the base, hampered by debris and by random enemy sightings. They were flailing about, hoping for something that would turn the tide.

Finally he got the call from his scientists, they had found a radio, and they were on their way to what might be their last hope. As he watched and listened to the rest of the chaos being reported around him, he knew just how true that statement was. The SGC was spiraling down into the maelstrom, and Earth might easily go with it.


	79. Repairs

**Chapter 78 - Repairs**

Sam woke first the next morning, and though it had felt good to sleep so soundly, she had a few moments of worry. She toyed with the edge of the blanket, rolling it back and forth as she frowned. There was one problem left, and one consent she had yet to receive. It wasn't just her life at stake, it was Jolinar's, or rather, Jolinar's extended life.

Jolinar herself woke a few minutes later, and caught the tone of Sam's thoughts. _*Something you regret?*_

_~No, just worry,~ _Sam said. _~I feel like I've gotten close to Martouf and Lantash, but they've always seen me as separate from you. What if they can't accept me as, well, as part of what you've had for over a hundred years?~_

_*So we are come to this, then,* _Jolinar said, approaching the issue with gravity that felt right. _*It is always difficult, this part of being a Tok'ra. But rarely are there true issues.*_

_~Yes, but this has all been weird from the beginning,~ _Sam protested, letting the worry flow free. _~We settled on being friends, but though you were there to push me to see otherwise, I don't know if they'd want that.~_

_*Don't underestimate things as they are,* _Jolinar said. _*They see a part of you every time they look at me; it is some of what we are. I do not fear that they could possibly reject you, it is just not likely.*_

_~This is insane,~ _Sam muttered, gripping the edge of the blanket. Her heart was starting to flutter, with worry and excitement crowding out the pure joy of last night. _~This is like proposing marriage, and that's not something I ever wanted to do.~_

Jolinar smirked slightly. _*In a sense, you are already part of it. You are just opening yourself up to all possibilities.*_

Sam flushed, but she couldn't see the humor. All her original mortification was tumbling back, from those first days as they had all tried to shift around her, put all spousal closeness on halt. It was even more emotional now, as she felt a desperate desire to be a part of this, to share in this aspect of Jolinar's life that felt like it should be hers too.

_*Well, what are you going to do?* _Jolinar asked, half demanding.

_~Talk to them,~ _Sam finally said, and tried to swallow down both the way her stomach had risen in her throat, and the blush that still colored her cheeks.

Jolinar helpfully stepped in for that, though she was back again a few moments later; this was Sam's to do, without distractions.

Sam cornered Martouf and Lantash a few corridors off from the main labs of the base. She wasn't picky; it was quiet and alone.

"I need to talk to you," she said, hands folded in front of her to keep from wringing them.

"Of course," said Martouf quickly, curiously, stepping a little closer to her.

Sam wasn't sure what that boded, if anything.

_*Stop thinking about it,* _Jolinar advised.

"You know the whole situation with me and Jolinar," Sam started, giving a roundabout approach.

Martouf nodded, expectant of more.

"Well, you've been around from the beginning, you know almost exactly what's been going on," Sam continued, and despite her efforts she was slightly wringing her left hand. She frowned and went on. "I know you've probably been expecting us to find Jolinar a new host at some point."

"It was your plan, was it not?" Martouf answered, looking grave.

Sam felt mortified to be more direct than this, but she didn't have a choice. "You wouldn't mind if that didn't happen, would you?"

There was a pause, and Sam could almost hear the throb of the living tunnel surrounding them.

"Do you..." Martouf started slowly, a light in his eyes that wasn't Lantash. "You would stay with Jolinar?"

"It's not settled yet," Sam jumped in, nervous but looking him straight in the eye.

But Martouf took a deep breath and looked down at the floor. He looked back up with pleasant surprise. "You love us enough to stay?"

Sam didn't have an answer for that at first, she just stood, apparently in as much surprise as him. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Jolinar was as unmoved as she said she'd be. "Well, yes," she finally said, the words coming out with a bit less smoothness than she would have asked for.

"Really?" Martouf said, a kind of relieved smile filling up his whole face.

Sam had to avert her eyes for a moment, tell herself not to blush. "It's been for a while," she said, almost a mutter, trying to clasp her hands and not fidget with the excitement of this whole situation.

"Lantash and I had not dared to hope that," Martouf answered, and suddenly the curiosity they'd expressed at the beginning of the conversation seemed like detachment compared to the emotion in their face now. And Sam wondered how many other times they'd presented a cool appearance that was just that—a presentation. Now, the warmth directed at her and Jolinar was something she could almost feel, even with a few feet of distance between them. "But we have considered you Jolinar's other half for quite some time," he admitted. "We dreaded your departure, even though we would never have told you."

"You're sure?" Sam asked, even though she wasn't sure if she needed to. "You wouldn't rather someone else, someone more enthusiastic?"

Martouf flashed her a quick smile, and then Lantash took control, stepping in a little closer. "We are not the gambling type," he said, with a slight quirk of one eyebrow. "Not when the near-perfect choice is already within our grasp."

Jolinar couldn't stay back any longer, and the rush of her pleasure made Sam's flush even higher. "Then I guess it's done, I'm definitely staying," Sam said, trying not to smile just because they were, but failing miserably.

"Then may we?" Lantash asked, raising an eyebrow as he stepped within a few inches of Sam, one hand brushing her waist.

Sam's heart started to flutter, and the last bit of unity with Jolinar was achieved as she was not sure who managed to say, "Of course."

And then the circle was complete. Lantash, Martouf with him, leaned down for a kiss. Not the affectionate ones that they'd known for months past, but one that promised so much more. Sam's breathing seemed to stop, and her mind and Jolinar's felt too light to stay down to earth. Lantash slipped his arms around her back, scooping her up to his chest as the kiss deepened, finally running a hand through her hair until Jolinar and Sam seemed to overwhelm themselves with the appreciation of just that particular sensation.

Giving in to all that she'd held back on out of guilt, Sam understood exactly what this was supposed to be like, each emotion and feeling doubled and not halved, and loving them as two halves of one being that was now both precious and hers, theirs, her and Jolinar both. She couldn't imagine love, or this marriage, working any other way.

When Lantash finally stopped to let them breathe again, Sam felt like she had been touching sparks the whole time.

"You are sure?" he asked.

"Mm, yes, definitely," Sam said, slightly breathless, but smiling as she pulled in his head for seconds. Her last coherent thought before she and Jolinar drowned in the blissful sensation was that it felt like she had loved them all her life, had been tasting the sweet taste of their lips for decades, knew every millimeter of their face by touch alone.

She was here to stay.

ooooooo

Daniel woke in the cafeteria, laid out on a cot, Shifu not beside him. He jerked to more than waking, and instantly regretted it as his head felt like a rock. The world spun a little and he had to lie back, but he had been noticed.

"That's right, lie still, Daniel," said Janet, moving to his side from one of the other of the many beds laid in the cafeteria that he'd just seen.

"Where's Shifu?" Daniel asked, closing his eyes to keep the world normal.

"With Sha're," Janet said, and she opened an eyelid to flash her little penlight in.

"Sha're is back?" Daniel asked, feeling a surge of relief and curiosity.

"Just relax, Daniel," Janet said soothingly.

"What happened?" he asked, opening his eyes and blinking, trying to look around without sitting up. His heart clenched a moment. "Is this infirmary overflow?"

"You still need rest, I don't think you need to worry about any of that," Janet said.

"Don't do that to me," protested Daniel, grimacing. "I promise you, I'm not sleeping at all until I know what's going on—how is everyone? Are we going to make it?"

Janet sighed, but she didn't leave. "Things are at a standstill. The past few hours, the Re'tu slowed down. Maybe they need to sleep like us, we don't know. But they holed themselves up in a defensive position, and they've been there since then. We're all taking the time to get what rest we can, in shifts."

Daniel nodded slowly, closing his eyes again. "And the plan?"

"Well, that happened before the stand-down," Janet said, with another sigh. "Dr. Mckay and Dr. Miller did make it to where they were supposed to go, but the formula wasn't quite right, and they got ambushed on the way back. Dr. Miller was shot in the abdomen, and Dr. Mckay couldn't get to her before the Re'tu drove him back towards the lab. If it hadn't been for Sha're hearing what happened on the radio and disobeying orders, I'm not sure if Jean would have survived. Sha're fought her way back, and the Re'tu had gone by that point, so she dragged Jean all the way down here to me."

Daniel couldn't say he expected it, and it didn't exactly lessen his worry...but Janet's words were a reminder that some things still went the way they were supposed to go.

"I've kept her here since then, for all your sakes," Janet said. "Dr. Mckay was frantic, but he thinks he's close to a solution as well. He also hasn't slept in over two days, which has me worried, but the general won't let me do anything about it."

Just then, Janet's radio buzzed. _"We've got movement again!" _called Dixon's voice.

"That's not a good sign," Janet said shortly, and stood up to go off.

"Wait," Daniel said, grabbing at her arm. "Can I get a radio?"

"You need to rest, Daniel," Janet said sternly, and Daniel didn't really want to oppose her when she looked like that, face drawn and circles dark and heavy under her eyes.

"Not just yet," Daniel said.

"If I tell Sha're that you're awake, will you try?" Janet said, pursing her lips as she compromised.

Daniel nodded, and Janet sighed in acquiescence and walked off. Before she got too far away, Daniel heard another transmission, "_Mckay, where's that goddamned transmitter?"_

How could Janet expect him to rest like this? Daniel closed his eyes and hoped to all the gods he didn't worship that this wasn't turning into the last battle for them all.

ooooooo

Sam had no idea that time could fly so fast. When she woke the next morning, sprawled across Martouf and Lantash's chest in a room she'd never been in before, she had a hard time accounting for all the hours of yesterday since they'd made the final agreement.

It would almost have been embarrassing, had not Jolinar been so utterly comfortable with this position. She had a feeling that Jolinar would be essential in keeping awkwardness out of everything that was to come, but also that it wouldn't last long in any case. For all intents and purposes, she was now on her honeymoon.

Absently tracing marks on her new husband's bare chest as she lay snuggled against it, Sam thought that hers was remarkably happy. Last night had been messy, to say the least, and a little frantic after so much time and worry had kept all four of them apart. But though Sam blushed to admit it, passion and love had been mingled enough to carry them through without a true hitch.

And now she had her own memories to verify all of Jolinar's, the ones that had been spilling out in bits and pieces ever since their blending, but had come raining down in a flood of overwhelming erotic emotion last night. Sam had hardly been in the mood to process them, barely having enough self-control to not rip off Martouf's tunic before they got out of the dining hall after supper. A little sleepy comparison several hours later had been conclusive—she was going to enjoy this life.

She laid her cheek on Lantash and Martouf's chest, feeling the slow heart-beat beneath. Closing her eyes, she joined Jolinar in a little simple appreciation of the relaxing qualities of waking up and not being alone. It was better therapy than several dozen warm baths.

_~So now...~ _Sam mused lazily.

_*I believe we may simply enjoy ourselves for the next couple days,* _Jolinar said, with unsurprising but unusual ease. _*The Council will understand. Or perhaps they will not, but that does not matter.*_

"Good morning, beloved," came Lantash's slow and tangy words just above their head.

Jolinar raised her head, scooting a couple inches up his chest, Sam's focus following hers without a hitch. "A truly good morning for the first time in more than a year," she said, and didn't hesitate before devouring his mouth in a kiss.

A couple days of this after all they'd been through would be a reward they'd easily earned.

ooooooo

Jack stood over the last Re'tu carcass, blood starting to stain his sleeve. He exhaled slowly and looked across the hall to where Dixon struggled to stay on his feet.

"General, just one more sweep," Jack said into his radio, and then stumbled, and sat down to lean against the wall. God, it had been a long four days.

"So, we made it," Dixon said from across the room.

Jack had hoped it would sound a lot more triumphant when someone got to use those words. Since the first Re'tu attack now four days behind them, he'd gotten approximately seven hours of total sleep, and had watched five good men die. More were wounded, and more might be missing. He didn't have enough strength to do the numbers.

One thing did stand out vividly in his mind, and that was that Mckay had saved the world. Jack didn't begrudge him this one, especially not after seeing what the scientist had become by the third day into this. The Re'tu had renewed their attack several hours before, after a regroup and recharge session that had done both sides well. Mckay had just downed all the caffeine pills that were remotely safe for him to take, and even with his sister recovering from surgery several levels below, he managed to make his way around the base to find all the pieces necessary to finally put together a device that would send a visibility beam that affected Re'tu.

Jack had also seen him almost collapse from exhaustion immediately after handing the device over to the military, and from what he heard, Janet had confined him to a bed and he hadn't even protested. It had been up to Jack and his men and women to finish the job. After four days of fighting the bugs, they had a pretty good count of how many there were. Jack was 99% certain that they were all dead now.

Even lying wounded and exhausted up against the wall, though, he didn't trust that. They'd sweep through the base as a group, blocking off all entrances that couldn't be locked due to rubble, and only then would they consider themselves done.

After that, Jack didn't really care what happened. Somewhere he knew that they'd all have to sleep for at least a full day, and once they could unlock the big door between them and NORAD, the collapsed levels would have to be shored up and then repaired. They'd have to turn the power back on, and the gate, let the offworld teams know that they could come back home.

It might be for the last time, was Jack's last thought before some officers came running up to take the Re'tu-beam-weapon and carry on the sweep, leaving a couple behind to help Dixon and Jack down to the very-full infirmary.

ooooooo

Sam had never felt so on top of the world as when she and Jolinar finally got back to the work part of it, informing the Council that they were back in business. Garshaw had not even appeared momentarily surprised at Sam's decision, and had also given no fuss when both them and Martouf and Lantash had been out of commission for two full days.

On the other hand, had it not been for Jacob and Selmak, Vala might not have been so quick to understand what had happened.

_*She should understand, it was better for her this way,* _Jolinar said, after they had kissed Martouf and Lantash a goodbye as they went out on a mission in the morning. _*Now we have a clear plan.*_

_~Amazing what a little tension release will do for that,~ _Sam mused, and she was starting to feel Jolinar's boldness about the new status quo. "How have you been?" she asked aloud, as soon as she found Vala in the mess hall.

"Confused," said Vala, but her face seemed to brighten on seeing them. "You are well?"

"Yes, very," Sam said with a smile she couldn't hide, and didn't want to; no reason to hide anything anymore. "Better than ever."

Vala nodded. "That is good."

"We didn't totally forget about you, of course," Sam quickly assured her, putting a hand to her arm. "That's why we're here."

"You have a way to take me to Earth?" Vala asked eagerly.

Sam paused. "Listen, I haven't thought about that yet. I had another idea. You'll get there, I promise, but it's not going to be the easiest road. You probably won't be coming back." Jolinar understood Sam's meaning more than Vala, she thought.

"That is the point," Vala said bluntly, with one raised eyebrow.

Sam smiled and indicated a seat at a small table. They sat down comfortably, and Sam continued. "Well, yes, I understand that. But I think it would be best for you to burn as few bridges as possible."

"I am not burning bridges," Vala protested, slightly confused.

"Not consciously, I know," Sam said. "But if you don't want all that's happened to you to follow you around the galaxy, it would be good to take a little proactive measure."

Vala looked suspicious and nervous.

"It's not much, I think," Sam said. "Just...I'd like to go to Dorieth with you."

Vala flinched. "That doesn't seem like a good plan," she said with a shaky half-laugh.

"This isn't just for you, either," Sam said, grave. "There are a lot of scars there, and I hate to admit it, but Jolinar and I weren't flawless in our plan. I want to apologize. And for you—well, you don't need to apologize, of course, so it's just so that they can solidify the fact that you're you now."

Vala swallowed, and stared down at the table.

"It won't be a big deal, I promise," Sam said. "You've already worked with plenty of people who knew the whole situation, Dorieth won't be any different. It'll feel good for everyone to finally relate as equals, allies now that conflict is over."

"You're not just sending me out to do this on my own?" Vala asked, looking unsure still.

"No, no, of course not," Sam said. "And I promise, as soon as we're all done with this part of the galaxy, I'll find a way for us both to get back to Earth somehow. I need to help the Abydonians make contact too, and I'm pretty sure it's possible. This is just a precursor to all that."

Vala shrugged. "As long as it doesn't hurt, I shouldn't say no, right?"

"Well, that's as good a motto as any," Sam said with a broad grin. "You've been talking to my dad, haven't you?"

"Selmak has told me many times that he and Jacob are very wise," Vala said. Then a bit of a smirk crossed her face. "It may be true, but..."

Sam laughed. "Oh, I know what you mean."

_*And you have not even explored all the memories that I have of that genre,* _Jolinar commented.

_~Hey, there's a lot in there,~ _Sam said. _~I have a lifetime to share them all, I don't want to rush it.~_

"Will we be going tomorrow, then?" Vala asked, taking a deep breath.

"If you're ready," Sam said, getting up from the table.

"Patience is not my best quality, I believe," Vala said smoothly.

_*She's not the only one,* _Jolinar admitted. _*Perhaps tonight I might look at your own past more closely?*_

_~You don't need to ask..~ _Sam commented as she nodded to Vala and rose to depart.

_*Nearly seven months of habit doesn't disappear all in an instant, Samantha,* _Jolinar countered. _*But—I gladly accept your comment.*_

Sam's smile didn't fade as she walked off to inform the Council of just what plans they had left.

ooooooo

The infirmary had survived fully intact. That made a difference in the tone; so had the survival of the gate room and the cafeteria. Little things like that made their home feel less ravaged.

Still, Daniel had stood with Sha're and looked at the hall where their quarters lay, seen the burn marks on the walls, the dust of rubble at the edges. Daniel had squeezed her a little tighter to him and suggested that they ask for VIP quarters. In all the mess, there was no fuss about that.

The team assembled in the infirmary. Mckay had slept 26 hours straight after his research and development binge that had saved all their lives. Now that everything was clear, Janet had ordered him to stay settled, and had surreptitiously encouraged him to submit by placing him near his sister's infirmary bed, and just across from where Jack and Dixon recovered from lighter injuries.

Daniel, by now, was allowed to go on his own. But he stayed there with Sha're, Teal'c joining them in near-constant watch over their companions. Clara and Dave's kids had come as often as they were allowed, but it wasn't that often with all the repair going on around the base. But Clara was allowed a secure phone-line in, and that was enough. Dixon had to share the line with Jean Miller, but they were both too grateful to be alive to be selfish.

Jean was sleeping, and Sha're was getting Shifu cleared for being infection clean at the moment, when Daniel joined the rest of them.

"Gate's still down," he reported, as Mckay gave him an expectant look. "Not a big surprise there, though."

Still, no news had felt a little more like good news. Even with all of them still alive, the room felt dull.

"Now that I've thought about it, what about confidentiality?" Mckay asked.

"Oh, that's got to be shot to hell," Dixon said from across the room.

"To purgatory, maybe," Daniel said. "But we only have to worry about NORAD." He frowned then.

"I'm guessing we're not getting a gold star on the next report," Jack said darkly.

"No," Daniel confirmed, and sighed. "We're probably going to be lucky if they don't put a coverstone on the gate, at least shutting it all down for a while, until better security or benefits come to light."

"I have examined the damage throughout this building," Teal'c spoke up. "From watching your repair teams at work, it could be mended in three days, and this base restored to original power."

"But then what?" Daniel said. "That's the question. After all the little dangers that have come through, this one caused major damage, and could have doomed Earth."

"Oh, they weren't _that_ bad," Jack retorted. "Colorado, maybe, not Earth."

Dixon snorted, and Daniel did raise an eyebrow in acknowledgment, but levity didn't change the facts and they all knew it. "Well, this day was coming for a while, we all saw that."

"Given my first year on this planet, however, I would not have expected this quick a downfall in this project," Teal'c commented.

Daniel hesitated, not sure if he wanted to admit a thought that had been trying to get free for a couple weeks now. "Sam was kind of a lucky charm, wasn't she?" he said quietly.

No one answered, but no one denied it. It hadn't been all Sam herself, but her loss had started a trend that had led to some of the worst disasters, at least from a political standpoint. What they needed was some kind of positive boost to get them started on the path again; what they had was more disaster.

"You think she's still out there?" Jack said, breaking the silence after a minute.

"I'd bet my life on it," Daniel answered, and it felt good to think about that again.

It would hurt the most, if they were really shut down, that he wouldn't have a chance to apologize to her.


	80. Initiative

**Chapter 79 - Initiative**

If Vala was more surprised than Sam at the Doriens' reaction, the difference was negligible. They'd both been expecting something separate, but what they received was simultaneously impressive and anti-climactic. Vala had feared revulsion, Sam hesitation and discomfort. The Doriens had given indifference and a tone that said "Oh, were we not supposed to know all that?"

Despite the changes in Vala's appearance, it was made very clear that they remembered who had controlled her, and who was now gone. And for the most part they were openly congratulatory of her good fortune. More than a few had deduced just what the Goa'uld were, after the short explanation needed to foment rebellion against the "false gods", and the terror of what might happen gave them nearly a sense of awe about Vala's survival.

If Sam and Jolinar's "honeymoon" had restored their spirits to full again, this did the same for Vala. She beamed at the world, bright and open and wanting to love everything. The children, with their easily-forgotten and easily-readjusted memories, gave her a starting point where she was totally welcome. Sam watched her play as if one of them, and asked Jolinar what the likely age of Vala's implantation was. Jolinar couldn't know, however.

"Shall I stay here a couple days, then?" Vala asked when she returned later, face flushed after a running game with the Dorien children.

"You can stay forever if you wish," Jolinar offered.

But Vala shook her head shortly. "I still want Earth, where there will be so many who do not know of all this."

Sam and Jolinar understood, and after trying to apologize many times to people who considered it an unnecessary step, they finally just settled down and enjoyed the feel of victory for a couple days. They would have a tough diplomatic road ahead of them on Earth, and every bit of strength was valuable.

ooooooo

"No more speculation," Jack sighed, holding up the note to them all, in a diplomatic fashion that looked hopelessly unlike the Jack O'Neill Daniel was used to. Given the circumstances, however, he could hardly look any better.

A couple days of recovery had done the team good, both physically and mentally. Seeing the base being put back together had been the only emotional upside, on the other hand, and this bit of news seemed ready to tear even that much down.

"We have two more weeks of funding," Jack said, cutting to the chase with a flat tone. "Time to wrap up any diplomatic proceedings, tell everyone we'll be on hiatus, and pull back all assets. Oh, and if we have any notion of fighting this, our only success would be in finding something on one of these last trips that is meaningful defense."

"We're shut down," Daniel summarized, and he felt a headache coming on.

"Overwhelming planetary risks," McKay read off Jack's note from two seats down. He fidgeted, as if about to object, but had nothing. Then, "And that's not even a backdoor, it's more like a loophole," he begrudged, dark circles still under his eyes as he indicated the last clause. "They probably didn't even think about the terms when they put it in."

"I wouldn't totally count us out yet," Dixon said stubbornly, arms crossed as he leaned back in his chair.

"MajorDixon is correct," Teal'c concurred, hands resting on each other on the table. "The tenacity of SG-1 may very likely pull us through still. We need only refuse surrender."

"It's not surrender," McKay amended, "it's fighting your way towards failure. The end's no different, you just use up a lot more energy."

"You get your dignity, though," Jack said in a low voice. His eyes were dark.

"Shall we start the last rites, then?" Daniel said with fake brightness. He had been used to being always fighting to hold on to the last bit possible; he had two weeks to become like that again, before he and Sha're and Shifu would have to face the rest of the world.

ooooooo

Sam, Jolinar and Vala made it back to the Tok'ra base after three days, and just in time.

"First Tok'ra mission," Jacob said brightly, clad in official Tok'ra garb and changing Sam's opinion of him. It would be simple, but change was change, especially active change.

Jolinar simply felt glad to see Selmak back in business. At that, Sam remembered that her father, too, would probably like a reconciliation with Earth. That just postponed their own mission a little further.

"Be back soon," Sam said. "I think we'll have some things to discuss."

Jacob's look told her that he understood, and he nodded and hugged them goodbye.

"Good luck," said Vala as they walked off, and Jacob turned and gave her a soft smile.

"This Earth business may be a little more complicated just from the start," Sam said, aloud for both Jolinar and Vala's benefit.

"I'm hungry," Vala said shortly.

Sam gave her a droll smile, and put a hand on her shoulder. "That is a very good idea. To the mess hall we go, then."

They needed took the entire meal time to get through the information, surprisingly. Vala's first question, how they had gotten Sha're back, had opened up too many possibilities.

"We can't just ask the Jaffa for a ship to carry us," Sam spoke her and Jolinar's thoughts aloud, for Vala's continual inclusion in the conversation. "That was a one time trick; they'll have defenses in place by now, and we wouldn't even get that far."

"But the only other way to a planet is through the gate," Vala said, popping a small fruit into her mouth and looking intense but not worried yet.

"And we've got an iris to deal with, yes," said Sam, leaning back and sipping hareshna slowly. "They've changed the GDO signals, but I wonder if I could hack through somehow." Then, blinking. "No, wait, I don't even have to do that. Radio travels through the gate, so I can just send a signal."

"But that would not get us through," objected Vala.

"That's where negotiation comes in," Sam said, even as Jolinar started to feel a little uneasy. "By now, I'm sure they'd trust me enough to let me through the gate, even if they have armed guards on the other side. The worst they can do is not let me through, since I know they wouldn't just keep the iris closed on me."

"You trust them that far?" Vala asked, giving her a close look.

"Yes," Sam answered, and it was perhaps a little more faith than usual, but in this case she felt they deserved it.

_*I am willing to take any risk if you are,* _Jolinar said.

"So, I just need to construct a radio," Sam thought out loud, tapping her finger on the edge of the table, "and find the right signal for the Earth radios to receive. Then I can focus on the message."

"And where will we send this message from?" Vala asked.

"For symmetry's sake, Abydos would be the right choice," Sam said and shrugged. "We need to accomplish four things here. First, the other Abydonians need to know that their kin are freed and living on Abydos again. Second, you need to be given asylum on Earth. Third, my father and I would like to connect again with the people we cared about. And fourth, some kind of agreement has to be reached about the Tok'ra/Earth relations. At the very least, they need to avoid damaging our operatives if they come across them."

"But first we create a radio," Vala clarified with a nod. "I do not know how that works."

"Oh that's simple," said Sam, feeling a surge of excitement at the idea of doing science again. "I'll talk to Reyfa and Dru'ri, and I'm sure we can get the right supplies."

Since Selmak and Jacob would be gone for the next three days, Sam had time to scavenge and assemble and calibrate. Vala proved more adept with small work than she had at the more physical defense exercises that Sam had introduced her to. She had a keen eye, and once her interest was captured, she stuck like a burr to whatever it was and let no setback get in her way.

That proved a blessing, given the complications. Tok'ra communications were nothing like shortwave radio, and though Dru'ri was familiar with the concept, the execution of it proved almost beyond her. Had Vala not been there to keep track of the busywork, Sam might have gotten lost in the need for explanations.

"This will go through the gate, yes, but I need to know that our radios will hear it," Sam said. "It's best to go with a frequency I know they use."

"With these supplies, it will require extensive testing to get accurate readings," Dru'ri warned, already tapping information into her data screen.

"We've still got time," Sam reminded.

By the time Selmak and Jacob returned, however, Sam had solid evidence to show them.

"This is an unconventional approach to beginning diplomacy," Selmak said, with a raised eyebrow. "So it is very much within your comfort zone, I believe."

Jolinar smiled at him. "And in the planet Earth's, from what I remember."

"So my host tells me," Selmak nodded. "I approve."

"Once it is finished, then," said Jolinar. She paused. "It is a shame that we may not wait for Martouf and Lantash as well. This is just as much their area as it is ours, and the connection is even personal."

"We do not need to push things so early," Selmak cautioned. "Remember their fear. Even with Sha're, there may be vestigial reactions of threat to a large presence."

Jolinar nodded. "We are confident of the current situation."

Selmak rested a hand on her shoulder. "This is a large step, but so are we."

ooooooo

"Look, so we've got another choice to make in all of this," Daniel said quietly, as the team assembled in a diner near to the base.

"What are we going to do about Earth's safety?" Jack guessed.

"Exactly," said Daniel.

McKay's eyebrows rose over the brim of his coffee cup. "Oh, that."

"There's a week left before the base is shut down, and we've got nothing yet," Daniel further elaborated, leaning on his elbows over the table. It wasn't the most secure place, but what he was bringing up would be disastrous if heard by SGC authorities. "We broke rules last time to save the planet, are we going to do it again?"

"I in any case will refuse to stay on this world," Teal'c said gravely.

"Oh, yes, about that," Daniel said, putting up his finger. "The report from Chulak."

The team and the SGC in general had been shocked to find not only Bra'tac, after a long absence in communication, but a fully functioning Free Jaffa society. And, as Bra'tac had proudly said, there were not only other planets like Chulak, but other planets with free humans as well, and they were allied under the moniker of the Free Peoples. For the moment their purpose was survival, but long-term goals of destroying the Goa'uld were well in place.

And, as they explained, they had reason to trust their abilities. It had been a final low blow to the SGC to hear of how the Tok'ra had aided the Free Peoples in defeating a Goa'uld who aspired to be a System Lord, releasing all the captured slaves in the process, and helping them in setting up a rival free empire. With Sam and Jolinar's help, no less, as Bra'tac said with a disapproving glance to the team.

Not that they'd had much of a doubt on that front, given Sha're's testimony, but with everything going downhill it just added to the bitterness. At the moment, though, it was important information.

"I will be joining my people if this base falls," Teal'c said stoutly.

"And we could leave the base, join the Free Peoples," Daniel offered. "Sha're could find her captured people among them, maybe. If nothing else, they are organized and fighting against the Goa'uld. If the SGC is shut down, they will be the main threat to the Goa'uld, so they'll be the front line."

Dixon hadn't said a word, frowning and staring at his section of the table. "I've got a family, Jackson," he said after a moment. "We have a life here."

McKay seemed about to say something, but held back.

Daniel swallowed. "Yes, yes I know that," he said quietly. "This would all be personal choice, of course. We'd—it wouldn't be easy for us, either, but especially not with breaking up the team. I can do it, I've got the means to help my family and fight the Goa'uld."

"I don't," Dixon said bluntly, brow creased but no conflict on his face.

"Don't worry about it," Jack said, slapping him hard on the back.

Daniel looked at him, wondered if he was thinking about Sara, about their growing connection. Would it matter enough? Was it possible that he might convince her to leave?

"I don't know what I'm going to do," McKay admitted.

"Just for the record, this sucks," Jack said, dark tone making his light words hold double weight.

"We've still got a week, nothing has to be settled yet," McKay said, sighing and sipping his coffee.

Daniel nodded, and then the waitress came by for their orders of food. At some point they'd have to fully commit to treason, leaving their world for the purpose of defending it, but against their orders. For the second time, well, third for Daniel, in less than five years. He wondered what that said about him, and about the universe that kept pressing the choice on him.

oooooooo

Sam had to face the Tok'ra Council yet, and negotiate just what she would be doing.

"It won't be like last time," she assured over and over again.

After all the recent breaches in protocol, the Council was less sure. "There will be no talk of alliances," Garshaw declared after an hour of negotiation. "This is purely for the sake of recon, to understand and explain how the Tauri relate to our structure."

Sam nodded slowly. "In the same fashion as our original dealings with the Free Peoples, then?"

Some of the Council raised eyebrows, but Garshaw nodded after a minute. "You may see it as such."

With that in place, Sam and Jolinar began to leave the Council chamber.

"Samantha, Jolinar," Garshaw called, following them down an exit corner.

Sam turned, surprised. "Yes?"

"I have not had a moment to speak with you since your decision to remain blended," Garshaw said, hands clasped in front of her. She eyed Sam closely. "I will tell you now that it was my hope that you do so from the beginning, despite your initial rejection."

Sam had no words, even as Jolinar started flicking back through their memories and wondering if she had suspected something like that.

"Though your joining with Jolinar has proved...distracting...at times," Garshaw continued, "it has proved beneficial overall. Not all the Council may agree with me, but your unique qualities in a host are what is needed, if our race is to prosper. Those of us, Selmak and I, who were there to see the first days of the Tok'ra, have a longer perspective than many of the children of Egeria. With that in mind, we at least are fully satisfied with your decision. And I am glad for your sake, Samantha, that you may have such triumphs as this looks to be."

"Thank you," said Sam, surprised by the words, but appreciating the straight-forwardness.

Garshaw looked at her once again from under hooded eyes, a glint of something there, then she gave a short smile and nod, and walked back to join the rest of the Council.

_*She is right,* _Jolinar said after a moment. _*I believe our time together will be remembered by the Tok'ra, even once we are gone. Somehow, Samantha, even though you have pulled from them almost as much as I, we are more accepted by them because of you.*_

_~We really are a volatile combination, I think,~ _Sam mused, feeling a little glow of pride for them both.

They stopped later that day at the infirmary, where Sam asked Larys about Vala's health and if she would need any treatments.

"No, her aging has been slowed as much as we can help, and beyond that her systems are recovered," Larys said.

"My other question is, if all goes well, she won't be coming back, so what should she take with her?" Sam continued.

"I am assuming that she does not wish to take Tok'ra garb with her," Larys said, frowning as he thought.

Sam nodded.

"I have two options, then," Larys said. He beckoned to Sam, and she followed him to another room. He reached down to a shelf, and pulled up folded BDUs.

Sam breathed out slowly, feeling nostalgia strike her sharply on seeing the old uniform.

"The full one was Jacob's when he came here," Larys explained. "The other jacket was yours."

_*I had forgotten that,* _Jolinar commented, as Sam reached out to brush her fingers over the worn green fabric.

"The jacket will work for Vala, as she's near to my size," Sam said with a nod. "And it will help her feel an automatic connection, I think. Can we make adjustments for the pants from my father's size to hers?"

"That will take only a few hours," said Larys nodding.

"Good, good," Sam said, smiling. She patted the Earth clothes. "It's hard to believe that I could give these up."

She and Jolinar had already decided, they would be going in the dark brown of the newer Tok'ra uniforms. Jolinar appreciated the smoother lines of the design, while Sam had a more visceral appreciation of the smell and feel of the leather. And as a representative, it would give a much better impression than any of Jolinar's other outfits, however comfortable Sam now felt in the elegant lines of some of the dresses.

Jacob and Selmak would be in the dark brown uniform as well, they found out upon coming to their quarters the next day. It would still be many hours before optimal time to contact the SGC, in Sam's judgment.

"Vala will be joining us shortly," Sam said, as she sat next to Jacob on a bench. "I think she's taking one last bath, after hearing what Earth showers are like."

Jacob smiled, and put an arm around her shoulders. "Have you ever considered what our experience has been?" he asked. "Both of us on our deathbeds, saved almost against our will, and we then choose of all things to go across the galaxy? All for the sake of these people we now love..."

Sam smiled and rested her head on his shoulder. Jolinar thought it sounded pretty much normal for being a Tok'ra, though slightly more poetic when he said it.

Vala walked up to them a couple hours later. Her hair was freshly done, pulled back in a neat bun that would have given her a sharp look had her eyes not been shining, mouth twitching as if ready for the first impulse to smile. The green BDUs fit snugly, and other than a pair of Tok'ra boots, she looked like any other human.

"Nervous?" Sam asked sitting up.

"New life is always nervous, but the good kind," Vala said, smiling with a bright flash of teeth as she sat next to them.

"After all we've done, I've no doubt that you'll pick up on everything just fine," Sam said, squeezing her hand. "We just need to convince them to let us in."

"Not to put any pressure on things, but this is your mission, it is your lead," said Selmak a few moments later.

Sam almost expected Jolinar to take control, but realized a few seconds later that this would not be the impression they wanted. It was almost confusing, after all the time away.

"Right," Sam said, and rose.

They took the radio they had made, had Shan'ak dial Abydos, and then waited for the wormhole to close. A few short words explaining to the Abydonians that they might be in contact with their kin within the day, and they were ready to roll.

Sam took a deep breath and, with Jolinar on edge at the back of her head, stepped forward to dial an address she thought she'd never dial again.

Earth.

ooooooo

"Unauthorized incoming wormhole?" Jack asked incredulously, as the alarm went off.

With only four days left of their probation before shut-down, and Hammond himself off base, this was no longer a moment of excitement. Still, the entire team gathered curiously in the control room, arms crossed.

"What do we have?" McKay asked Walter.

"No GDO," the gate tech answered. "But...something's coming through. I think it's a radio signal."

"Patch it through," Jack said, in charge in Hammond's absence.

A slight crackle, and then—

"_This is Samantha and Jolinar of the Tok'ra, calling the SGC of Earth on a diplomatic mission. We wish to talk, and we come in peace. Please respond."_

Daniel's stomach did flip-flops.

"We trust her now, right?" McKay asked, brow furrowed.

There was a pause. It hadn't ever been set in stone what the precedent would be, it was just assumed that there would never be an opportunity to put their opinions to the test. Now that there was only one shot at this, also, they couldn't postpone or wait or set another location.

Knowing her aid with Sha're, and with the Jaffa as well, made a lack of trust not an option. Especially not now.

"Have a team of marines standing by," Jack ordered. A few seconds later, the men rushed into the gateroom, guns at the ready.

"Wait," Daniel said, suddenly remembering Sha're. She should be here for this. They all carried radios now, and thankfully she had both heard the alarm and was standing nearby. Less than a minute later, she arrived in her work BDUs.

"Here goes nothing," Jack said, as they all stood at the bottom of the gate ramp. He called up to the control room. "Open the iris."

The bare blue wormhole appeared in front of them a moment later.

"This is Colonel O'Neill of the SGC," Jack said into his radio. "We acknowledge your request for diplomacy, and have lowered our iris. You are clear to enter."

Daniel felt strange, as if this was an odd bookend to the disaster that the Stargate Program was turning out to be. A random meeting at the end.

But then three figures walked through the gate, and the guns aimed but didn't fire, and they all stood and stared.

How could that possibly be Sam? Daniel's eyes were startled by the clean lines of dark leather in her uniform, long hair darker than he had ever seen it pulled back tightly. And when he looked up to her face, he had a hard time seeing Sam in it—the lines were deeper cut, her skin slightly darkened with tan, accentuating a long silver scar running down to her neck.

Daniel realized that they weren't the only ones whose situation had been flipped on its head—but he didn't know how to tell her that.

Jacob Carter was there behind her, in the same uniform, and he barely noticed the dark-haired woman in BDUs. What was he going to do about this Sam? Sam _and_ Jolinar, as she said. How were they supposed to bridge the gap that had grown wider with how far they had both strayed from it?

The silence was awkward as they all just stood, faced one another, said nothing.

Suddenly Sha're darted forward and up the ramp, and threw her arms around Sam, a half-cry escaping her throat. "Sa'm!"

And then Sam embraced her tightly back, eyes squeezing shut for a moment, and the relieved smile on her face was Sam all the way. Despite the strangeness of seeing Sha're belonging here, and Sam belonging somewhere else, with grey-green and dark brown contrasting in their hug, it was the first step to reconciliation.

Daniel heard Sam give a little laugh, too emotional to be mirthful, but a laugh all the same. They all breathed out—Sam Carter was back in the SGC.


	81. Remedy

**Chapter 80 - Remedy**

Until she saw Sha're among them, Sam didn't know how they were going to react. She could have gone for detached objectivity, talking about formal negotiations. But this was her old home, and that needed to be her last straw.

Then Sha're made the step, and pulled her into a tight hug that broke through the first frozen layer of insecurity. Sam and Jolinar both felt the pang of regret, and the joy of reunion, and they laughed as they hugged her back, feeling on the verge of happy tears.

"It is so good to see you again," Sam said, pulling back a second later and looking at her. "And—you work for the SGC now?"

"I did," Sha're said, and her nod was grave, but Sam knew all that could wait.

"But what happened to you?" Sha're asked, a dark cloud crossing her face as she reached a hand to Sam's face.

She didn't flinch when Sha're touched the scar; it was far enough in the past now. "Things didn't go so well on our end," Sam said simply, and rested a hand on Sha're's arm.

"I'm afraid it is likewise," Sha're said, giving a painful shrug.

"That can happen later, right?" Sam said, feeling finally eager to see them all again. She took a few steps forward down the ramp.

"Wait!" Daniel said suddenly, and he had a gun whipped out faster than Sam could see. His face went suddenly hard and Sam wondered what could have driven him so quickly to such desperation.

Then she turned to see who he was aiming at, and came sharply into focus. "Daniel!" she cried out, stepping between his gun and Vala, who stood in stunned shock.

"I don't know what she told you, but she is not a Tok'ra," Daniel said, gun still aimed. "She's a Goa'uld, Quetesh."

Sam heard Vala shiver and take a step back. "Daniel, put the gun down," she said slowly, quietly. "If you will just take the time to check, you will see that yes, she was once a host, but this is not Quetesh. This is Vala."

Thankfully, comprehension came quickly to Daniel's eyes, and when he lowered the gun the others lowered too. "Oh‚ I'm sorry," he quickly apologized.

"I shouldn't have come," Vala said under her breath.

Sam, determined to make this all work, turned and grasped her hand, tucking it in the crook of her arm to keep her from hiding. "Vala wished to see Sha're, to ask her advice on how to live," she explained, and looked to Sha're.

"Of course," murmured Sha're, and stepped close to Vala.

Vala, who had gone stiff and nervous for a few seconds, gave Sha're a tight smile.

Sha're's own smile was genuine, and she clasped Vala's free hand openly.

"General Carter," Jack said, looking to Sam's other companion.

"Not anymore, Colonel," Jacob said lightly, stepping forward with a raised eyebrow. "This may not be the time, given the tension, but it appears that the Tok'ra cause has become a family business. Sam and I are both coming here as representatives of them, in fact."

Jolinar snorted inwardly at that, even as Sam kept a straight face. They hoped it would work, though.

Jack slowly nodded, and Sam saw confusion in all of her team, but most of all him. After a few seconds, though, he grimaced and looked around him. "Stand down, stand down," he ordered irritatedly. "Sorry, we're a little unprepared," he said, finally looking to Sam.

"Well, we expected something like that," Sam said, walking down the last few steps until she stood in front of them. Jack, Daniel, Teal'c, so different and yet still the people she'd once loved.

"SamanthaCarter," Teal'c said then, and Sam turned to him. "You are well?" he asked, nodding towards her.

Sam felt a little choked up at that, already. She nodded, trying not to let her eyes get wet with tears. "Yeah Teal'c," she managed, attempting a smile and only managing to look emotional. "I'm very well, actually, considering. Thanks."

Teal'c nodded, but before she could even think about what to do next, Daniel spoke.

"Sam, we're so sorry," he burst out, looking suddenly more conflicted than hard and desperate. "We had no idea—"

Jolinar pushed Sam and all her overwhelming emotions forward, and she didn't let Daniel continue, just grabbed him in a tight hug. "It's all forgiven, Daniel, really," she said over his shoulder, as he hugged her back and something healed between them.

When they pulled back, he looked full of sorrow, but smiled anyways. "We thought we'd never see you again," he admitted.

"And we were proved wrong, for not the last time," Jack said, and offered his hand.

Sam felt herself grin as she shook it, nodding to him. "Probably not, sir," she said, the last word coming automatically but feeling weird in her mouth.

"What brought you back now?" Daniel asked next, and they all seemed to settle into a circle around each other.

"There's so much to tell, but not in the gateroom," Sam said, feeling Jolinar's gentle push in the back of her mind. She was grateful to have someone more objective in this moment of hopes and dreams being answered.

"Right," said Jack neatly, and nodded upwards. "Briefing room?"

Sam felt another wistful smile. "Just like old times."

"No, not really," Jack said, sounding regretful. "But hey, protocol counts, right?"

Jolinar wondered sharply what could have affected them all so much, even as Sam's emotions clouded much of her clear vision. _~It'll all come out eventually,~_ Sam said, as they all walked up.

She glanced back to see Sha're holding Vala's hand, walking with her up the steps. Vala's eyes were wide, wary, but curious at the same time. Sam hoped that things would continue to go smoothly.

ooooooo

Daniel knew just how Jack was feeling as he hesitantly sat in Hammond's chair. They were botching this, but had to keep going and fixing it along the way.

McKay and Dixon, who'd stayed in the control room the whole time, now took silent seats at the end of the table. Daniel and Teal'c sat on one side near Jack, Sam and Jacob took the other side. Sha're and the woman called Vala sat a little lower down on their side.

"Just for the record, I'm required to ask," Jack said, with a pained look. "You're not here on a mission to destroy us, right?"

"Not at all," Sam answered, with a purse of her lips. She smiled again, and even with all the changes, she still looked like Sam when she smiled.

"Good," Jack said, with a visible brightening to his countenance.

"I'll tell you why we _are_ here," Sam followed, looking to him. He nodded his encouragement. "Well, first to heal the rift, of course," she said, her smile turning sad for a second. "But actually, it's mostly to bring Vala to you."

They all glanced down to the woman next to Sha're. Now that he knew otherwise, Daniel could easily see that she was not the Goa'uld he once saw.

"The Tok'ra helped her be free of Quetesh some time ago," Sam said. "But we don't have a place for her; she asked if she could come here, knowing that Sha're found peace. I thought that the SGC wouldn't mind, given that they're the only ones in the galaxy who are really familiar with the idea of hosts."

"That may not be so easy as you imagine," Jack said, frowning.

Daniel saw something crush in Vala's face, and saw Sam look instantly worried. "What is it?" she asked.

"The SGC's not going to be around in a few days," Jack explained, as if the words gave him a bitter taste.

Sam's face looked stricken. "What's happening?"

"We're being shut down," Jack said. "Too much risk involved. An alien force almost destroyed us a couple weeks ago, and before that, well, things weren't so hot."

"But they can't do that," Sam protested. "What about Earth's defense?"

"They aren't worried about that," Jack said, with snark that wasn't directed towards her.

The tone of the conversation had changed. Daniel saw Sam get a determined look on her face, and she turned to look at Jacob. He realized that so far, they hadn't gotten any indications that Sam and Jacob were Tok'ra—it was contrary to expectation, but a little comforting. Sam and Jacob seemed to share a silent conversation for a second, then Sam turned back to Jack.

"Okay, before anything else?" she said, sounding exactly like Sam. "I need to talk to the President, or whoever's controlling all this."

Jack's eyebrows rose. "Who do I say is calling?"

Sam's eyes glinted with purpose. "A High Ambassador of the Tok'ra, who has no intention of losing contact with this world due to minor political issues."

Jack's look to Sam held worlds of meaning, awe and apology and pride and regret all copied a thousand-fold. "Coming right up, ma'am," he said briskly, and rose and went to Hammond's office.

Sam was going to try and save their asses. Sam the _Tok'ra_ was going to help them, if she could. And for some reason, Daniel had complete trust in her.

ooooooo

Jolinar was mildly surprised that Selmak had nothing to say when Sam spoke to the Earth authorities. After all, they were not supposed to do any of this. But perhaps they saw without Sam telling them that it was a bluff.

"Yes, I know, they made mistakes," Sam said over the phone after a couple hours of explanation and negotiation. "They're a young project, what do you expect? I've been out in the world for a while now, I know that you've got to trust in those. Youth will learn. And believe me, you're not in as great a danger as you think. Especially not if you've got us on your side, which is what will not happen if you shut the gate down. You may still be attacked, but you won't be able to call for help. I'm going to fight to make sure that you aren't left like that."

Oh yes, it was a major bluff. But one that was centered in truth, and for Sam and Jolinar, that gave them no regret about using it.

When the conference finally ended, all that Sam had gotten were a thousand questions about the Tok'ra and her experience, but Jolinar told her that it was plain that they were thinking about her request as well.

_*They had to have been briefed about the Free Jaffa, given some of their questions,* _Jolinar commented.

Sam nodded, assuming that Bra'tac must have made them aware. It would be a good bit of evidence to support their claim.

But for now, a day's recess was called, and Sam was to be set up in the SGC's VIP quarters. She had barely been given a key when she was reminded of the other reason why she was here. Resting a hand on the grey walls, she remembered when this had felt like home.

She had to go down to the infirmary, and give Janet a fierce hug of reunion. Janet had been sharp on the uptake, and had driven off during Sam's conference call to bring Cassie back. The rest of the team joined them, and after tears and more hugs and a few awkward questions, they all ended up in the mess hall.

"What does being Tok'ra mean?" Cassie asked after a few other questions.

Given the darting glances, Sam knew that they'd all thought it. She smiled. "This," she said, and stepped back for Jolinar to take control.

Her eyes flashed as Jolinar took control. "Greetings again," Jolinar said easily, a slight smile on her lips.

Sam nudged her and told her not to be so impertinent.

_*The last meeting means little now,* _Jolinar responded stubbornly. _*Besides, this should be enjoyable for us all, including me. I like doing it this way.*_

"You're Jolinar?" Cassie asked.

"Of course," answered Jolinar. "Who else should be a part of Samantha?"

"Well, we wouldn't know, would we?" Daniel said, his chuckle only a little shaky.

"Neither did Samantha in the beginning," Jolinar said, with a little sigh of remembrance. "But we found ourselves bound by friendship and experience after a time, and given all that happened to us, it is not surprising. Now we are too close to be separated."

"So Sam will always be...an ambassador?" Jack asked, trying to sound open but looking self-conscious.

Jolinar laughed. "I believe we both hope not," she said, sending an amused glance to them all. "We prefer other kinds of missions, with more action being in our taste." Sam saw a weird sort of relief on her team's faces, and felt a little more proud of herself and Jolinar for managing so far. "But yes, we are Tok'ra for life. As is Samantha's father; he is blended with one of our oldest and wisest citizens."

"I suppose we should thank you, then," Daniel offered, with a kind of awkward smile. "You took care of Samantha better than we did, in the end."

"How could I not?" Jolinar said and shrugged. "She is a part of me, and I love her dearly."

A few seconds of reflection settled around the table.

Jolinar closed her eyes for a second so Sam could come forward with little fuss. "So?"

"So, we're impressed?" Daniel said, a real smile flashing for a second. "I was just remembering what Bra'tac told us. How did you manage to pull that off?"

Sam's smile was slightly strained. "It's a long story," she said. "Long and painful, at points." She didn't have to say anything about her scar, they all looked to it as soon as she made the implication.

"Someday, I think we'd like to know," Daniel said slowly.

Looking around at all of them, Sam saw an honest if still slightly hesitant welcoming. Her fears mostly allayed, she knew that they did still care. It satisfied her mission quite well.

"And I should like to hear more about this Jolinar that, before this year, I heard of only in rumor," Teal'c spoke up, nodding towards Sam again.

"Oh, yes, Jolinar's pretty amazing," Sam admitted. "There's a lot to tell...I'm sure it'll all come out eventually."

There were a few chuckles at that, and then the conversation turned to other things when Sha're came with Shifu and Vala.

ooooooo

Daniel lost track of how many official things happened before the end of that day. Briefings beyond briefings, especially when Hammond returned, and briefings from both sides. For the government's sake, there were also medical tests by the dozen. Sam and Jolinar both laughed their way through these, and Daniel was glad that they had been able to see how much trust was given to them now.

He felt a little lost with it all, still, especially with the SGC's fate hanging so delicately in balance. And even more with the fact that there was no way to go back to the beginning. When they talked about the Re'tu attack, Sam had looked upset, but it was not the sharp blanching that it would have been if she had heard a year ago. The SGC was not her lifeline anymore, and so it being in danger wouldn't affect her so deeply.

It struck him again when the fact came out accidentally that Sam was now married. There was a lot of "What?" from everyone who heard, but despite a slight flushing, Sam conveyed all the information with an easy acceptance. He wondered if she even understood how confusing it sounded, how both she and Jolinar could possibly be married to two other people. But the Sam he had dealt with was gone, and any more of this and he'd probably figure it out for good.

He didn't mind so much, really. After all, she didn't, so why would he? Especially if things were fixed, he wouldn't mind so much that they weren't back to normal.

By the end of the day, the one thing that was settled was that Vala Mal Doran now had a home on Earth. Not that Daniel was surprised. Sam had guessed right when she thought that, if anything, Earth was friendly to ex-hosts. Especially ones like Vala, Sha're informed him later. "She is very lucky to have so much natural curiosity and tenacity to help her through this," she said. "Also, I like her."

But it was late that night when things started to make sense.

Sha're and Shifu had fallen asleep when Daniel woke and couldn't join them again. Too many things weighed on his mind, if not his heart.

The halls of the SGC were mostly empty, and he walked them, hands in pockets, running a dozen thoughts through his head at once.

When he came back to Level 25, he saw Sam sitting against a wall, knees bent.

"You okay?" he asked automatically.

"Oh—Daniel," she said, turning to him. She'd let her hair down, and it still looked a little odd to him to see it so long and so dark, framing her face. "Just couldn't sleep."

"Me neither," he admitted, and in a move that felt slightly odd, he sat down next to her.

"It's kind of weird, I think," she said, "but I can't sleep here because it doesn't feel like home."

"Really?" Daniel said, sounding more surprised than he felt.

"I didn't expect it either," she said with a small smile.

"How long a road was it to that point?" he asked curiously.

"Long," she answered, chuckling. Her face went dark for a second. "We had to go through a lot, Jolinar and I. After going through the fire, it was like we were melded together, and abandoning each other just wasn't an option."

"I'm sorry about that," Daniel said, worrying about what could have happened to her, and yet content that she seemed able to brush it off.

"What about you?" she asked, looking to him curiously.

Daniel breathed out slowly. "Well, McKay and Dixon are part of the team. It was nice while it lasted."

"It still will be, I'll make sure of that," Sam interjected.

"That would be nice," Daniel said with a light nod. "And then you brought Sha're to me, and Shifu, and things kind of formed up around that. Dixon has a family too. So does Teal'c, but you already knew that. Jack's been talking to Sara, McKay has a sister with a family, Janet and Cassie kind of ended up with us too. It didn't feel like a long road, but we had to go a long way. We were almost one large family, before all this. Now, I'm not so sure." He looked out at the hallway, feeling depressed in that moment, even after the hope he'd expressed.

"Hey," Sam said quietly, and he looked to her. "Family's important, Daniel."

"I know that," he answered, slightly confused.

"No, it's the most important," she said. She sighed. "Even when we choose what family it'll be. Family's got your back when things are down; they don't let things fall apart. You are all a family, I can see that. Which means, even if you're separated, even if there's disaster...you'll come back together somehow, someday."

Daniel was quiet for a moment. "I should start thinking like that more often."

"You should," Sam said, sounding almost amused. "You're all a bit pessimistic right now."

"Well, we've had plenty of reason over the past months," Daniel said, giving her a look.

"I know," Sam said, nodding. "And I know the feeling. But things get better, Daniel, and you keep trying and working and you make it better. You and your family."

They sat together, not sleeping, just thinking. When Daniel finally returned to his room, though, he felt like he had a hope that wasn't desperate.

ooooooo

Sam got what she wanted the next day, and the world became instantly brighter.

Her persuasion had convinced the IOA to reevaluate what the SGC had done, and they had decided to put a little more budget into the project, set up completely different guidelines, and restore focus on gate travel. Defense and caution had their part as always, perhaps more than before, but Sam's sharp words on the importance of diplomacy and exploration had found their mark.

Jolinar informed her that she clearly liked too much having the power as "ambassador". Sam retorted that Jolinar was enjoying the bluffing part too much. In any case, it did feel good to have both trust and a sense of control.

And then they got to watch the aftermath. Suddenly the base was alive, suddenly all awkwardness was gone, and suddenly it was the family that Daniel said it was. Sam found herself and Jolinar being introduced to everyone and their cousin, apparently, and even though she tried to focus on remembering names, mostly she got lost in watching them.

Clara Dixon would give McKay a look, as if he was a younger annoying brother. Teal'c and Dave Dixon talked quietly in a corner. Sha're laughed as the Dixon kids held Shifu and asked cute questions. Daniel grinned as he watched Jean and Jack argue about something, and Jean seemed to be winning even newly recovered. Even if they let Sam and Jolinar in, the connections were strongest among themselves.

Sam had never felt so happy. She didn't need to belong here, because they belonged here. She could come, she could visit, she could indulge a little remembrance. As official ambassador to the Tok'ra, she was given one of the one-time GDOs that they'd given her before, the little radiation sphere. Anytime she needed to come back, for whatever reason, she could do so.

"We haven't even touched your lab, you know," McKay said, when he finally talked to her. She found his personality just slightly grating, but it didn't matter so much when he was one of SG-1.

But she was also ready to go home. Back to her family, back to her connections, back to her life. Nostalgia was nice, and so was reunion. Just not permanently. And now that Vala was safe, and Sha're knew where to find her father and the rest of her people—well, Sam's official business was done as well.

_*I am very glad that we took the risk, now,*_ Jolinar said warmly, as they prepared to return to Abydos through the gate, and then back to the Tok'ra home-world.

Sam agreed as she hugged her team goodbye. Slightly choked up, especially once she got to Sha're and Vala, she made her way through without a real tear. Her father was there too, having made all his connections while she was with her team.

"We'll be back, you know," she said as she stood at the bottom of the ramp. "Have to make sure you don't get threats of shut-down again."

"That'll be appreciated," Hammond said unexpectedly.

Sam smiled broadly. "I just hope you find amazing things to tell me about when we come back."

"And you keep safe," said Jack, pointing a finger at her.

Sam laughed. "Yes sir," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Good luck," said Daniel, nodding.

"Indeed," Teal'c concurred.

Sha're sent her a warm look that needed no words, and the gratitude on Vala's face made Sam really in danger of crying.

"Thank you," she said. She turned and walked up a few steps towards the already-open gate, then turned around at the top. Her father and Selmak stopped with her, and waited. "We, Samantha and Jolinar of the Tok'ra, bid Earth a cordial farewell."

And then, big smiles all around, she walked through the gate.

_~And now,~_ she said, as soon as they were back among the Tok'ra, back home. _~And now all our business is finished.~_

_*Which means a new mission,* _Jolinar said brightly.

_~I'm ready,~ _Sam said solidly. _~Whatever it is. I've got a whole life of this ahead of me. It can't start too fast, not after all the waiting.~_

_*You have no idea how wonderful that sounds,*_ Jolinar said warmly.

_~Of course I do,~_ Sam teased back. _~What else would I know? I'm right here with you, after all.~_

_*And so you are.*_

And so they were.


	82. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Jolinar couldn't help but laugh, even as they ran across the planet, a Jaffa army on their heels.

_~Martouf is going to kill us once he finds out,~ _Sam thought, as Jolinar raced to dial the gate.

_*He's going to find out?*_

_~You may joke, Jolinar, but you know you'll have to be honest.~_

_*Yes, you're a bad influence on me,* _Jolinar said, as the blue flashed and she prepared to dart through and shut it down.

_~Ha, you would be nowhere without me, literally,~ _Sam tossed back.

They made it through, and not even a single Jaffa could follow. Sam's near-waist-length hair had gotten tangled in her slave costume, and she pulled it away now, letting the adrenaline run free in their veins.

_~We still aren't that good with the slave routine,~ _ she commented.

_*Which makes it a little more fun,*_ Jolinar said. _*But yes, not so useful.*_

Their second long-term mission since blending had now ended, and the universe was their oyster once again. The thrill of spying, reconnoissance, taking down the Goa'uld from within, it never got old. But there was something to be said for having nothing to do for the moment.

_~So, when we get back, I had an idea,~_ Sam said, as Jolinar started to dial the gate for their return home. _~Anise's project.~_

_*Must we?* _Jolinar asked reluctantly.

_~Egeria is important to us, I'd think you also would want to find out everything you could,~ _Sam said. _~After all, it sounds like there was something weird about what Ra did, and there might be knowledge on Earth. It's been a while since we checked in with them, so that'll be interesting enough. Besides, you like science, but you still won't admit it.~_

_*I prefer designing cloaking devices,* _Jolinar said.

Sam chuckled as they walked through the gate. _~Actually, we all prefer that.~_

_*Well, why not?* _Jolinar finally said. _*It could be an interesting exploration. And you were right when you once said that science was more like a treasure hunt. Call it that, and I'll probably give in more easily.*_

_~Egeria search it is, then,~ _Sam said. They could wait to give their briefing; the mission hadn't been that important after all, and a bath had top priority.

_~Speaking of treasure hunts, while we're on Earth, we should see if Vala has catalogued any Goa'uld or Tok'ra items.~_

Jolinar mused as she slipped into the tub, just how unlikely it would have been a year ago to think about such a casual visit. In the half year since she and Sam had fully blended, the Tok'ra had changed just slightly beyond what they'd planned. Individual operatives were allowed to make contact with other worlds, such as Earth or the still-growing Free Peoples. Just as long as they kept everything in personal terms, and didn't betray any group knowledge, and especially as long as they did not claim to speak for the other Tok'ra.

And in the case of Earth, that was a blessing. Sam's original bluff to keep them in business hadn't been needed, given that it was inevitable that after a dark time they should have more luck. After her first check-up, she'd felt satisfied that they were settled without her. Vala, like Sha're, was now an SGC intern, working with the various artifacts that Daniel and the other archaeologists were done with, and she was the only piece that hadn't been settled the first time.

As for Sam and Jolinar—well, they were as they always were. Close to Jacob and Selmak, close to Reyfa and Dru'ri and Larys and Dorin, and maintaining an interesting but not quite friendly scientific relationship with Anise and Freya. Not to mention the always surprisingly deep closeness with their beloved mates, Martouf and Lantash. Life was full, life was good.

There would always be another mission for them. Together. All was as it should be.

_~The End~_

—

**Author's Notes: **Thank you so much to everyone who has read this story, and thanks especially to those who left comments! I will hopefully have time to reply to feedback soon, but until then, just a few comments. This ending is not meant to wrap up the entire storyline; there are points deliberately left hanging and unresolved, because this was intended to be a sort of "pilot" for this alternate universe. I'm not sure if or when there will be a sequel, but I do have ideas, so I didn't want to try to wrap up everything neatly in one story.

Also, if you'd like a visualization of what Sam/Jolinar look like by the end of the story, here's a rough example: i188(dot)photobucket(dot)com(slash)albums(slash)z253(slash)MerryKK(slash)samjolinar(dot)jpg


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